


Fall of Darkness

by BruisedBloodyBroken



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Hunter Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Love, M/M, Monster Sam Winchester, Other, Torture, Unrelated Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:54:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 147,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29136639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BruisedBloodyBroken/pseuds/BruisedBloodyBroken
Summary: UNRELATED!WINCEST AU Dean!29 Sam!25 Dean is a DEMONhunter, humans know about monsters & properties pay to get them killed. As Dean and a couple of others are going after a demon-nest in an abandoned church & interrupting a curious ritual, they find a crucified young man & he ain't completely human. caring/protective/hunter/dean abused/hurt/"monster"/Sam unrelated!wincest
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Formerly published on fanfictionDOTnet

** Fall of Darkness **

AU

* * *

** Prologue **

I had this idea spooking around in the depths of my mind ... about an **AU** (yet again) ... because there's no other way for me to get Dean & Sam together in more than a brotherly way.

The facts about the _Supernatural-Universe_ i am about to create:

People know about monsters, they know about hunters. Hell, they feel a whole lot safer when a hunter is around (more than a cop). In this universe, the states are called properties. Hunters get paid for their accomplishments per hunt from the properties themselves. Lets say, those women and men are nothing more than bond-enforcement-agents.

Hunters have a special status in the community, since they're the only ones that know how to deal with supernatural beings. They're renowned and feared by civilians and most of them wouldn't even try and mess with a hunter.

There's a law that depends on the property-rulers, wich says that every owner of a motel has to have always a place for a hunter. Even if he might not be able to pay for his stay. Further there are special appartements for the ones who practice hunting. Lower rent, more comfort (depends on how much the hunter wants to pay) and of course the basements of these complexes where hunters can build up some kind of home. These basements ... cruel places, well protected against every kind of evil that lingers out there in the dark, either from breaking in ... **or breaking out**. These are places where every scream, every kind of agony gets swallowed by thick walls and insulating material. No one would ever dare to ask where the dried blood and the other body liquids come from that are mustering the surfaces.

* * *

Dean Winchester lives in one of these appartements. A small one. Scratch that. _A tiny one_. When you enter the apartment (what's the understatement of the century), you're right there in the kitchen-living-bedroom. The only separated "room" that's more like an alcove with a shower-curtain is right beside a giant king-size-bed. Probably the only damn thing in the appartement that has cost more than two hundred dollars.

So yes, Dean Winchester enjoys long cosy sleeps on silken sheets – at least then, when he decides to take one or two days off from work to get back into his appartement. To enjoy some company during cold and lonely nights. And no, not anyone (not that he would've to pay for it – no way. - But he's not so much into the whole binding-crap) ... he's got special ones for those times ... ordered from a special service for special people. Her name's Lola and she has a slight asian touch. If you watch her closer, and if you pay attention to her accent you'd notice. The other one who joins them on occasion is more into the dirty stuff. And when i say dirty stuff, i mean REAL DIRTY stuff .. or when Dean Winchester just feels the need of needing more than one girl a night.

Dean Winchesters life is simple: drive his baby (a slick-black '67 Chevy Impala), hunting things (he's THE demon hunter. No one's better at this as the HIM. - Though he hunts other things too on occasion ... but he gets called for Demon-Problems and possessions mainly.), drinking blue label whiskey, eating (bacon-cheeseburger and pie), sleeping and having sex with Lola (and the _other one_ ).

* * *

There's this boy ... actually he's more of a grown up young man. He's used to the darkness. He's used to be starving. He's used to be thirsty and he's used to be used. He doesn't remember a lot since they have taken him. Well, he was just a toddler he thinks, when they had come for him.

He doesn't even remember what it is like to be loved. At least not the way children should be loved, the way mothers are supposed to care about their kids. The young man knows and remembers what he had called a mother was nothing more as the black-eyed beasts that own him now. This woman, that wasn't his mother - since he is able to remember a blonde, blue-eyed angel thru the vail of oblivion - was nothing more and nothing less than a _demon_.

This black-eyed beast had taken him away. _THEY_ had taken him away from his real mother, from what was home.

There were nice moments ... As long as the black-eyed beast was nice to him. As long as he did what she told him to do. Then ... when he was supposed to do something DIFFERENT for her, nothing was OK anymore. Back there he didn't want to hurt people. He didn't want to hurt the men and women that are supposed to save others from the black-eyed beasts tortures.

It happened when he turned eight or nine. Sam isn't able to remember it that clearly. Things changed drastically and fast. From a soft bed into the dark basement. From the comforting caressing of a black-eyed beasts hand to the beatings and bindings he has to suffer since back then.

It is hard not to lose hope and faith. But now ... now things would change. He and the other both, whose screams he hears every night, who he sees every time they take him out of his cell to make him do things he doesn't want to think about. He and those two others would be freed soon. And if it is thru the hands of death it would be alright. Because he would be free. Free for the first time in his damned life in the darkness.

_... to be continued_

* * *

* * *

** Fall Of Darkness **

**Chapter 1 ~ Sacrificed**

They had teamed up in the Roadhouse. It was early in the morning, so no one beside them was there and Ellen had decided to keep the bar closed until the job was done, what meant that there'd be no money earned. But she had to go with them and be there. - Dean was clear about it, that there was a chance that her daughter _Jo_ was there. Jo had been taken when she was three years old. Taken by monsters. Creatures of the dark. Better said black-eyed bitches aka _demons_. So yeah, she had to go with them since there was a chance to get her daughter back.

Dean Winchester, an old friend of hers, had found a nest down in Wyoming, in an abandoned church. He had been there. Had seen them. Had counted them and prepared everything for the big night, like the demons had prepared everything for theirs. Dean knew that they had planned something. That something was going on. Something **big**. Something they had to stop before it was too late. Demons didn't team up, except there was something special that had to be done.

Over all of that he had seen three of them. Three that didn't quiet look like demons. Three " _somethings_ " that seemed to be thru hell and back and the hunter could only imagine that the kind of world they were living in wasn't quiet Disneyland. All of them seemed starved and dehydrated by the looks of it. There were two young men. A tall one, with long chestnut-brown hair that covered half of his dirty face, hiding a pair of green hazel-eyes. And a pretty short one. Shorter as Dean was. The state of this one was hard to tell. His eyes seemed empty and hollow – he pretty much had given up already, the hunter could tell. One of these humans was a girl. Long blonde hair and brown big eyes, filled with fear and despair. She definitely seemed to know what was coming. She wasn't that starved and didn't seem to be in a bad physically state than the two men were. Probably because she was a _girl_ ... and the demons didn't like to bang (Dean Winchesters words – just not using his choice of words in front of Ellen) bony girls.

Bobby, Ellen, Caleb and Pastor Jim were waiting for their leader, _Dean Winchester_. _He_ was a professional when it came to demons. No one knew them better than _him_. No one hunted them better than _him_. _He_ was the one who had found the lead on those evil sons of bitches. _He_ was the one who had the knowledge and the plan to get in there without risking their own lives. Not even a Winchester with the backup of four others was able to face twenty-seven demons on their own.

There was a simple reason why he didn't have called more hunters. He surely would've got a couple more to support them. But he didn't trust the others. And trust was something Dean Winchester didn't share with everyone. Just a few _chosen_ like Bobby, Ellen, Caleb and Pastor Jim had earned it over the years.

Anyways, the waiting friends heard the roar of Dean Winchesters Impala as he drove on the parking area in front of Ellen's sanctuary for hunters. Ellen put on a strained smile and took a deep inhale. She was so full of hope to see her daughter tonight again – after twenty-two years of searching and grief it was time to have a little bit of luck. Just this one time, she'd give everything to see her little girl again. And by the words of Dean there was a pretty huge possibility, that the girl in the church could be her daughter.

Bobby laid a hand on Ellen's shoulder and smiled reassuring, giving her a hopeful look. The woman wasn't one to show her feelings. Damn it, she was the toughest huntress anyone had ever seen, with a poker face every player was afraid of.

Short after the roaring died the door swung open and a 6'1" tall man, in a dark brown leather leather jacket, jeans and a plaid shirt entered. His heavy boots letting every footfall echo thru the empty roadhouse, like low drum-beats. He stroke snowflakes from his short cut hair and shook his limbs out after the long drive. Then he loosened the thick scarf that was slung around his neck and looked at the small crew at the bar. A cheeky smirk built on his lips and emerald-green orbs shone bright at them.

"Sorry for the long wait.", he said low and sniffed, "The weather's a pain in the ass."

The four nodded and gave him strained smiles. They didn't hunt a bunch of demons every day. Not like Dean Winchester did.

"Good to see you, hon.", Ellen gave him a warm smile, and set an empty glass on the bar, filling it with blue label whiskey. "How's the drive been?"

"Slow. - I guess we'll have to get our asses moving if we wanna be there before tomorrow night." He grimaced and sighed, then the sight of the filled whiskey-glass made his eyes lit up again. "Ellen, you're the best."

She chuckled. "It's on the house. - _This time_."

"Hey, that's unfair. - Why do we have to pay for it?", Caleb throw in and raised his arms in protest.

"Because Dean's the one who's the demon-hunter.", she gave back and arched both eyebrows. "And he's the one who probably found my girl.", she gave the newly arrived hunter a thankful look.

"Ellen – look-", Dean started and sighed, as he shoved his frozen buttocks on the bar-stool.

"I know.", she raised a hand to stop him. "But you try. - And that's a whole lotta more than i could ever ask for."

Dean nodded understanding and gave her a weak smile. "So you guys are ready?", he asked encouraging and gulped the whiskey down his throat in one long swallow.

"Sure.", Pastor Jim nodded. "You sure this will work?"

The hunter grinned and nodded, looking at the empty glass. "Damn sure. - It's proofed and it'll work. I've prepared the loudspeakers and covered them. - We just need Bobby's generator to get the transmitter going. - After we salted the doors we'll switch them on, and the exorcism will do it's work. - Then we go in and clean up the mess, gettin' out the three of them. - Me and Caleb will set the fire, and the rest is heading back to the motel, where we'll meet up to check how it'll go on."

All of them nodded in union. "I'm sorry, Jim." He turned to the pastor who was wearing his civilian clothes, listening warily to Deans explanations. "I know you don't like the idea of burning down a church. - But in this case ... We can't bury 27 or more corpses ..."

"I know ... i do understand, but ...", the Pastor sighed and shook his head in disapproval. "It's a house of god - nonetheless."

Then there was silence. Dean emptied a second glass of whiskey and they headed outside, where two pick-up-trucks – one of Bobby and one of Ellen – and the Impala were parked.

Caleb went with Ellen, and Pastor Jim with Bobby while Dean took the role of the leader of the small convoy, heading west.

* * *

It took them fourteen hours streight with small breaks until they reached Lysite, Wyoming. A small town in the middle of nowhere, not far away from the church, half an hour outside of the town.

They got settled in a small motel that laid pretty close to the highway, paying for two days and nights streight.

To save money, Bobby and Dean took a room with two single-beds and Caleb and Pastor Jim took another one, while Ellen got her own. They had another 18 hours until they would have to head towards the church.

After each one of them had gotten some sleep, they met up again the next morning. Ate their breakfast together and worked on a back-up-plan, wich they needed if anything would go wrong. The church was pretty much the only building out there, besides an abandoned farm. Dean had checked it out the night before, so he was sure that no demons had holed up there while he was gone. Later they checked their bag, sorting out the things that might be useful. Including stuffed up first-aid-kits.  
They left the rest in their cars and hidden arsenals.

* * *

Darkness had settled over the land as two pick-up-trucks and a black Impala disappeared in a side road, not far from their destination. They made the remaining two miles on their feet. Through thick scrubs of the forested area around the building they were targeting, carrying Bobby's generator with them.

It took them half an hour to get there, lurking out of the darkness and taking in the surroundings. There were no cars, no signs, that anyone was there accept the dim light that came thru the colorful windows of the wrecked building.

The hunters sat the generator down and Caleb and Dean went for their task to salt the two exits of the church. As they returned, they called the generator with a simple push on a red button to life, pumping gas and producing the electricity for the transmitter that was connected to Deans phone to send a signal to the wireless loudspeakers. The loudspeakers Dean had installed three days ago inside the church in the room that was once a priest's office and the ones he had fitted in the alcove behind the statue of a crying marble-made angel.

It was so loud, that even the hunters – who waited outside in the shadows - were able to hear the exorcism spell. As the tape stopped, and the cries and yelling had died, they left their coverage and narrowed the church warily with drawn weapons.

Even if the exorcism had made his job, there was no guarantee that all the black-eyed monsters inside were dead. Dean knew, because he once had to do with some of these hellbound creatures before, and they had simply locked themselves in their hosts. What meant he either found the mark that prevented the bitch from smoking out, or he had to kill the demon, including its host.

Pastor Jim opened the big heavy oak-door with a high-pitched squeak as the wood scratched over the dirty marvel-tiles. One after another slipped in, darting with their weapons thru the room, ready to attack whatever was still alive.

And as Dean had hoped. No one of the demons seemed to care about locking themselves into their hosts. Everyone of them started to check on the bodies, that mustered the floor. The human vessels, wasted by the demons draining powers, were all dead.

They made their way towards the altar, behind whom a giant cross had been raised.

At the beginning no one had noticed it. It actually had looked like a pretty dirty figure of the crucified man above their heads. But Dean, Dean took a closer look, since he couldn't remember that there had been a body on this cross before. _Not three days ago._ Not as he was installing the loudspeakers. It was then, when he realized that it wasn't a wooden figure on the cross. It was then, when he realised the labored rise and fall of the young mans chest, whose feet were tied to the cross, and iron shackles were holding his body in position. It was then when Dean recognized the dump shaggy chestnut-brown mop on the mans head, and the slinky legs and arms.

"Holy shit.", he muttered to himself and drew the others attention towards him. "Hey!", he called over his shoulder, not letting the crucified figure out of his watch. "Help me get the table closer to the crucifix!", he yelled impatiently.

Caleb and Jim were by his side in an instant and helped him to move the heavy wooden altar closer to the cross, until it touched the wooden pole.

"It's an altar Dean.", Jim muttered and looked at the young hunter reproachfully. "Not a table."

But the hunter didn't listen. He jumped on the altar and reached up at the mans neck, feeling for something. That was when the others realized. Realized that this was a human on the cross. All of them stared up to him and Dean with an intense _what-the-fuck-look_.

"He's alive.", Deans face crossed a small smile.

Bobby was beside him in an instant, fumbling for his lock pick in the inner pocket of his jacket, while he took the shackles in. These weren't usual shackles. There were engravings on them. As far as he could tell it were demonic ones. Shackles that were used to bind demonic-powers. He hesitated, glancing at the young man and then at the hunter beside him.

"I'm not sure if we should do that." Bobby looked back at the engraved sigils.

"What?", the younger hunter frowned at Bobby and then looked at the shackles himself. Then he glanced at the young man, his fingers still covering the neck and the weak pulse below his skin.

"You think ..." He bit his lower lip and shook his head. "Check him for the mark.", he ordered, taking in the young mans features, as he stroke bangs of hair out of his face.

He knew he should know better. Dean hunted demons since the very beginning of his career. He knew how they were hiding, how they were playing roles and that they were lying and faking the truth.

After Bobby had examined the young mans body, he shook his head. "Nothin'.", he stated and got a nod from Dean to pick the locks.

_Probably they had exorcised whatever demon was in the poor bastards body._

Dean wrapped his arms around the battered torso, feeling the cold skin on his palms and on his exposed neck, as the limp body sank against the hunters. He caught the young mans full weight, when his old friend cut his ankles free. Dean turned around, with the man who was at least 6"4' tall and 160 lbs heavy. Though he felt and looked much to light for a guy of his size. Time for the hunter to curse internally at the damn black-eyed monsters and damn himself for not trying and get the job done earlier. But he knew they had to wait. Wait until all of them were in the church, so they wouldn't miss anyone.

He handled the younger man to Ellen and Caleb below, while Pastor Jim spread his coat out on the cold floor, where the both placed him. All the young man wore was a half torn boxershort with a whole lot of undefinable dried moisture on them. It was a pitiful appearance. Starved, dehydrated and littered with bruises and cuts from tip to toe. Some seemed to be _older_ , some fresh ...

Dean jumped from the altar, so did Bobby. Both kneeled down beside the unconscious man, while Pastor Jim checked on his injuries.

"Except that he's half starved and probably dehydrated ... there aren't any visibly lethal injuries. Nothing seems to be broken. Though ... it looks like he lost a good amount of blood earlier." The pastor and ex army doc pointed at the gashes on his torso, before Ellen threw her thick winter-coat over the young mans body. "Hypothermia is one of his biggest problems i think."

There was a movement behind the younger mans eyelids. "Hey, kid.", Ellen's smoky voice sounded unusual soft. "Open your eyes, honey." She laid a hand on his pale cheek and rubbed a thump over his cheekbone. "C'mon. - You're save now."

It took him a couple of moments longer, then his eyes fluttered open and deep green hazel-eyes surfaced behind overlong chestnut-brown bangs.

* * *

_Oh God_ , everything hurt. Everything hurt so bad, he just wanted to die. Right here, right now. He wanted this to end – _finally_. He didn't want to live like that anymore. Never again. He'd chose death above any life anyone could probably promise him. Even if it meant a slow one. All the agony and pain. All the things he wanted to forget and just shove away. And to be honest ... somehow he was disappointed that someone had exorcised the damn demon from its host who was supposed to stab him with the atame.

He tried to talk, to tell them where _they_ were. He knew these people had to be hunters. He knew they were here to kill the demons, and him with them, as soon as they knew for what they had brought him here. And if they wouldn't kill him, they'd do worse things to him for sure. Despite everything, they had to know. He had to tell them. Had to tell them to look for the _others_. The _others_ like him. _Andy_ and _Jo_ , if he remembered their names right. - _Damn it_ , it had been too long that he was able to talk to them. apparently they didn't remember their names anymore after a while, as he had tried to call out for them a couple of hours ago. He couldn't remember his own name either. At least not at the moment. Besides he was too tired for this shit. Didn't hunters had better things to do than ask monsters for their names?

He saw their curious looks and expressions on their faces. All of them looked pretty nice ... at least until they'd figure out that he wasn't quite human. _Damn it_ , he didn't know what he was. He just knew he wasn't like others people. Though ... this wasn't relevant right now.

Relevant was, that they'd find the other both. They might were still alive. So he tried to force his vocal cords to work. But all what came out was a dry croak of something not even he realized as his own voice.

* * *

Dean eyed the young man under him, trying to figure out what he wanted to say, what he wanted to tell them.

"Hey, slow down, kiddo.", Dean said calmly and tried to smile, despite the horrible look before him. "Try and move your lips, I'll understand."

The young mans eyes started to tear up and a dry sob left his throat. Then he started to try and form the words, trying to mouth " _Others_ " and " _Farm_ " and " _storm cellar_ ". And by the third try Dean had figured out what the man below him wanted to say.

" _Others_.", Dean mumbled to himself and looked up, then back down at the hurt man. "Are there Demons?"

It took the young man a while to tell his body what to do, but finally he gave the hunters a short _no_.

A relieved **Christo** came over Bobby's lips. And there was nothing the young man could've done against what happened next. His eyes flashed black ... _just like that._

Dean Winchester sucked in a deep breath thru his nose, the others caught oxygen in their lungs and held it, inching back from the young man on the floor.

"Damn it." A split second later the Winchester drew his demon-killing-knife and set its tip on the young mans chest, looking into pleading hazel-eyes, wich seemed to shout " _do it_ " at him.

* * *

He knew this would've come sooner or later. _Better sooner_ he had decided as soon as he heard the breathed Christo of the bearded man to his feet. He felt the tip of something sharp peeking into his chest right over his heart and inhaled as deep as he could, feeling it digging lightly in his skin, drawing blood. He prayed – and god knew he didn't pray. But this time he prayed. Prayed for god to end his gethsemane.

" _Do it._ ", his mouthed words carried silently on a breath. " _Save the others._ " He tried to convince the green-eyed man above him with his gaze. Tried to lay every single emotion he felt into his green orbs. Adding a nearly unhearable " _Please_ ".

But it never came. There was no searing pain, no blade that released him from this life. Instead he felt as the cold steel disappeared from his chest.

* * *

"Does it want to die?", Caleb muttered in disbelieve.

"Could be a trap.", Jim answered quietly, who now seemed to be completely untouched by the young mans condition.

Dean eyed the man below him, holding his pleading gaze, trying to gather his thoughts and make up his mind what to do. Obviously it was a demon. But why the hell should demons crucifix another demon? And why didn't he get exorcised if there was no binding mark on his body? His thoughts started to race a hundred miles per hour, running thru all the possibilities how a demon could be stuck in its host. Other than thru the mark.

"Holy water.", Dean muttered and held a hand over his shoulder. A moment later Bobby laid a flask in his palm, and the younger hunter opened it with his teeth. Then he uncovered the mans torso and emptied the whole flask on his chest and stomach, but nothing happened. No smoking, no agonizing screams. It obviously didn't bother him, except letting him shiver from the cold air.

The hunter threw the flask aside.

Another pleading silent " _Please_ " left the younger mans lips.

Dean Winchester was sure ... whatever _THIS_ was, it didn't seem to human, nor a demon. He put the knife back where it had came from, just to see the outrageous disappointment in the young mans darkened hazel-orbs. "No.", Dean muttered to himself and shook his head lightly.

A single tear ran over the young mans cheeks.

"Caleb, Bobby, Jim, Ellen.", Dean spoke with unsteady voice. "Take one of the pick-up-trucks", he didn't leave his eyes from the young man, "and check the farm out. - If it's not lying we might find the other both there." Now he glanced at Ellen, hoping that the girl was her _Jo_.

"You wanna stay here?", Bobby asked in a mix of disbelieve and concern. "Alone?"

Dean nodded. " _It_ doesn't look like _it's_ dangerous. - At least not at the moment." He gave the others a hesitating smile. "I'll get _it_ into the car and follow you to the farm in the meantime."

Though the Winchester wasn't sure why he wanted to care about the _thing_. Why he had the urge to get _it_ warmed up as soon as possible and somewhere more comfortable as the marble tiles under him.

As soon as the others had left, Dean bowed over the young man, who was now barely conscious, fading in and out, obviously fighting to keep control, trying not to drift away.

"Hey. - You have a name?", Dean asked and tried to catch the _thing'ss_ gaze. But it didn't react. After a while had passed and no answer was given, he decided to just get _it_ into the Impala. First he was thinking about the trunk ... but then ... besides this _thing_ was damn tall and would probably choke in there – if _it_ was able to choke – and the trunk wouldn't do _its_ bruises any good, he decided to put _it_ on the backseat.

The hunter let out a deep sigh and laid a hand on the mans cheek. "Hey, you.", he started and frowning over his own hesitation. "I'll carry you to the car. - So don't ... Just don't puke in my baby and don't mess around while we're driving." Dean wasn't sure if _it_ understood him, nor if _it_ even realized that someone was talking to it, but he did as he had told the _thing_.

He slipped with his arms under _its_ knees and back and lifted _it_ with a strained grunt. This _thing_ was heavy, but for sure not as heavy as _it_ should have been when he considered _its_ height. "Damn it.", Dean muttered to himself as he took the first few steps towards the heavy oak-door.

The _thing's_ head lolled against his shoulder, and he felt shallow warm breaths brushing over his neck. Every breath sent a tingling feeling down the hunters spine and let him shudder a little bit. It wasn't a daily event to save monsters from freezing to death or bleeding out ... _or saving monsters in general._

That was when he remembered that the Impala was parked two miles away and another growled curse left his throat. Instantly the _creature_ in his arms tensed noticable and let out a silent whimper. It felt like _IT_ tried to curl up in his arms, while the creatures palm rested against his chest and pushed weakly, as it would try to get away from him.

"Didn't meant you." Dean whispered apologizing and tugged the human figure closer.

That was when he heard a familiar roar from the outside, coming fast closer. _The Impala._

Dean made the last few steps that led him outside the holy building and stared into the night, where he saw two bright white orbs narrowing. Wich he defined as his beloved baby, as the car stopped nearly in front of Dean and the creature in his arms.

"Get in, lad.", he heard Caleb's familiar voice, as the door slammed open and his old friend jogged towards the trunk.

"Forget about that. - It's too big.", he said and made his first few steps thru the ankle-high snow. "Backseat."

Caleb nodded hesitantly. "Sure? - I mean ... it may looks pretty beaten up but ... we both know that means nothing." He seemed to wait for approval or something because he didn't move.

"Backseat.", Dean repeated and glanced at the creature in his arms once more, feeling as it started to tremble and shudder.

Caleb nodded, clearly disapproval written all over his face. "OK.", he growled and opened the door to the backseat. "I've warned you – in case it's ripping your throat out."

Dean narrowed and waited until Caleb had made space, before he let the creatures long legs slide down. He had hoped that it would take a little of its own weight, but it didn't.

"Get one of the blankets from the trunk.", Dean told his friend, "and cover the backseat with it."

His friend did as he was told and **finally** Dean was able to get rid of the weight, that tore at his muscles.

As gentle as possible, the hunter sat the tall thing into the car, helped it getting its feet inside and then hurried to the other side of the car to pull his torso further up on the backseat so it'd lay more comfortable. Caleb watched him closely, a little bit confused looking, and muttered a silent _Christo_ just to be sure that the Winchester wasn't possessed by something.

"Need some help over there?", he asked as he heard the Winchester grunt, while he lifted the creature's head up to stuff his leather-jacket as a makeshift pillow under its head.

"No.", came a sighed respond. Then Dean hurried back to the trunk and pulled two other blankets out, hurrying around the car again and covering the _thing_ with them.

"Are you done yet?" Caleb seemed kind of distressed and unsure.

Well ... Dean Winchester was too, but deep down he had the feeling that he did the right thing. "Yes.", he replied and slammed the doors to the backseat shut and slit behind the steering wheel. The Farm wasn't that far away. Just about fifteen minutes.

"Since when do we put monsters on our backseats?" Caleb stared at the man behind the wheel, taking him in closely, like he wanted to read his mind.

"You sure that it's one?", Dean asked back and his gaze tore away from the icy road into the rearview mirror, checking on the _thing_ back there.

"You saw its eyes?", Caleb countered.

"Yeah ... i saw its eyes. - Though ... this whole thing is weird, isn't it? - Because if he's something, that means the girl ... Ellen's daughter is a monster too." Dean bit his lower lip. " - AND we don't know what they were up to in the church. - Maybe he knows something." The hunter rose both eyebrows and gave Caleb a confident look.

His friend just nodded and sighed, throwing a glance by himself into the rearview mirror. "Sure thing."

Deans lips formed into a hard line. He just hoped he did the right thing, and that his gut-feeling wouldn't betray him on this.

As they arrived at the farm, Ellen, Pastor Jim and Bobby stood in front of the building. Ellen leant against the Pastor, who had wrapped his arms around the violently shaking woman.

"Fuck.", Caleb cursed before Dean even had a chance. Both of them knew what it meant. - Either the girl was Ellen's daughter and dead, or the girl wasn't Ellen's daughter and dead. Both opinions were completely unacceptable ... but a possibility.

As both of the hunters emerged from the car, Bobby was already on his way towards them, just shaking his head and pressing his lips together. His lips obviously mouthed the name "Jo."

Dean swallowed and closed his eyes for a second. Just to try and sort out things in his mind ... what was completely nonsense, because he couldn't sort out anything at the moment. Not with all the racing thoughts, a hurt creature on the backseat and a crying Ellen four yards away from him. And not with a buttload of questions on wich he didn't have any answers for.

As he opened his eyes again, Ellen was on her way towards him. Her movements were furious and loaded with grief. It seemed like she took a run-up to break someones nose with her fist. Two more long strides and she stood in front of Dean, looking up in his deep emerald-green eyes. "Caleb. - You drive my car, i'll go with Dean and the boy.", she said gently, but with fury in her eyes.

Her look, her eyes ... it was like Dean could read it all in them. - She had figured what he had figured. That her daughter had to be the same _thing_ as the man on his backseat was. That was why they had been there, why they had took them so many years ago.

"Sure.", Dean said, not daring to gainsay anything.

She didn't need more. Ellen walked around the car and took a deep breath before she opened the door to the backseat where the young mans head rested. She lifted him gently and sat down, arranging the young man, so that his head rested on her lab instead of the makeshift pillow of Deans jacket, which she tossed onto the passenger's seat.

He looked at Bobby who gave him a knowing look. They had to talk about what had happened tonight and figure out what was going on. Because there was no way in heaven or hell that Demons held a coffee party in a church to crucifix a guy.

* * *

His eyes flashed black as he entered the abandoned church and saw what the hunters had done. The man clenched his yaw as his gaze flew over the empty hosts on the floor and towards the empty cross, wich made his nostrils flare and dots of pure white rage danced in his vision.

"Mine.", he growled and clenched his hands into fists until the knuckles of his host turned white. "No one takes away what's MINE.", he repeated as he bowed down over something that gleamed in the spare illuminated room. With a devilish smile he picked up the atame and held it into the spare light, eying the sharp blade.

_... to be continued_

* * *

** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 2 ~ What I Become **

Dean slid on the drivers seat behind the steering wheel, glancing into the rearview mirror once more before he turned the ignition and Baby's engine roared to life. Bobby, Jim and Caleb would take care of the fire in the church, while Dean should take care of Ellen ... and the unnamed thing on Baby's backseat.

The hunter's heart broke as he watched the woman, who could easily been his mom, laying a hand on the young mans cheek. - The Winchester knew that it didn't matter anymore WHAT he was. At least not for Ellen. The guy on his backseat was as much human as Ellen's daughter was. Hell, the girl had been three years old when she was taken and Dean had known her. He was four years older. Back then he had watched over the girl. When his dad had taken care of a job with Bobby, he had to stay with Ellen and Jo and the other passing hunters at the roadhouse.

He had known Jo ever since she was a baby. And he remembered as it was yesterday when she vanished. He remembered as it was yesterday as he and his dad arrived at the roadhouse, and it was full with cops and hunters at the same time. A real rare occasion to be mentioned. Because neither of them were best friends. Dean remembered to see Ellen cry, holding her girls little teddy-bear in her arms. And now she was dead. Three days ago she had been alive. If only he had tried to get the kids out of there earlier.

"He has to be as old as Jo is - _was_.", Ellen began hesitantly. "Don't you think?" Her voice cleared with every word she spoke.

"Think so." Dean didn't really know what to say without saying something stupid or something that would hurt Ellen even more. So he waited ... and listened.

"Dean, they ... why did they do that?" She asked and tried to get eye contact over the rearview mirror.

"I don't know yet." Dean answered and swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Maybe it - he can tell us something." He glanced in the mirror once more. "You're taking Jo home?"

Ellen nodded with a sad smile as tears were streaming down her cheeks. "She'll get a hunters funeral." Then she tugged the blankets closer around the man in her lab. "You're not going to kill him are you?"

Dean frowned. "If i would have wanted to kill him, i wouldn't have put him on my backseat, would i?", he asked back and tried to smile. "You know it's never that easy, Ellen. - The demons bound him with engraved shackles, what means they were worried he could break free or somethin' ... i don't know what to think right now. - I've never seen something like it – _him_. I mean ... what would you do in my place?"

Ellen looked up and tilted her head to the side and gave him one of your _mommy-will-give-you-advice-looks_. "You know, hon. - I'd give him a chance to proof that he's worth to be treated like a human being and not like a monster. - He's been among them ... probably as long as Jo was ... and you don't know how they treated them. You don't know the things they had to do to survive. Judging is always easier as watching and listening. I know you're a hunter. And you've seen a whole lotta more than me. Have hunted a whole lotta more demons I've ever seen or heard of. - Just try, OK? Try and look thru whatever your hunter-instincts tell you to see in him. Whatever he is, who he is ... i don't think that he's dangerous. - let your gut decide what to do and not your hunter-instincts." She smiled reassuring and looked back down. "Can you promise that to me?"

All instincts inside him were yelling **NO!** , but _damn it_ ... Ellen had _always_ been right so far when it came to girly crap like feelings and stuff.

"I know you Dean Winchester. - You've a hard shell but a soft heart." A light sigh left her lips.

Dean just grinned and glued his gaze to the snowy and icy road in front of him. "Well then – how's he holding on?"

"Unconscious.", Ellen answered, her face creased in exhaustion. "But he doesn't feel as cold anymore."

Dean nodded. "So ... you think i should give him a chance? - You know, if he's gonna try to rip my head off my shoulders i'll come for ya'." He tried to grin, but failed miserably.

"No problem hon. - But I'm tellin' ya'. - He's nothing more than you and me." She cleared her throat. "You remember Jo, do you? - I mean ... it's been some time."

Dean glanced into the mirror. "Yeah sure – why?"

She looked up and the hunter saw her visibly swallow. "Because ... Jo's eyes flashed black from Time to Time too ... when she was nervous ... or afraid. - You know the first time when it had happened she scared the hell outta me. She had nightmares and came to my room like usual. But her eyes were pitch-black. - And then ... then i scared the shit out of my little girl. I tied her down on one of the kitchen stools, tried to exorcise her, tried the holy water ... but nothing worked. - You can't imagine how sorry i felt for doing all this. And she was _just my little girl_. There was no demon inside of her. She wasn't different. Has never been. - And four weeks later she was gone. Just gone. Vanished from her bedroom, sulfur on the windowsill and i knew what had taken her." Ellen sighed pensively.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?", Dean asked surprised. He had never heard that story before ... at least not knowingly.

"I told someone. - John knew." Ellen answered coldly.

"My dad? - But ... wouldn't he have tried to find her?" The hunter asked confused.

"I have told John the whole story ... and he just said, that i should forget about it. - I should leave it be and tell no one else. - He said that Jo was dead, the moment she entered my bedroom with her pitch-black eyes." She swallowed down a sob. "That was the moment that your dad died for me."

Dean was speechless, not able to find the right words at the moment, thinking about his father and the warm expression on his face every time he had seen the little girl. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and growled in disapproval. He knew that his dad had been an ass at times. - But wow ... how could he? He had known Jo ever since ... How could he had the courage to tell Ellen to just let it be?

"I'm not my dad.", Dean countered. "I don't see a reason to hate the man back there, nor hurt him or kill him. - Like you said. He seems to be human." _... at least at the moment._

* * *

Dean pulled the Impala on the parking lot of their motel, as close to his room as possible. So he wouldn't have to carry the tall man all the way across area. While the hunter got out of the car, Ellen managed to sit the young man up.

Dean opened the door and tossed his room-key to the huntress who caught them and got out by herself. Eying the battered man for a moment, he thought about how to get him out of his Baby without causing too much pain. Though he had to get him out somehow, so he squatted down and laid a hand on his - with a blanket covered - shoulder.

"Hey.", Dean started softly. Wich was weird because he had never heard himself talking like that ... at least not that he could remember. "Kiddo. - You hear me?"

A silent moan left the younger mans lips.

"OK. - I'll get you out of the car and into a warm bed, you hear me?", he tried to explain quietly. "You'll be OK, you know?", he added whispering, frowning at the man as he laid a hand on his neck, trying to gain any kind of contact. "We'll help ya."

There was no response. Not that the Winchester would've thought he would get one. But it would've felt nice to know that the monster he was about to treat like a human would give its approval. Stopping his thoughts from racing again and shoving his doubts aside that it was a bad idea to get him inside the motel-room, he slid his arms under him and lifted the man, adjusting his grip a little bit as he stood and headed towards his room, where Ellen had already opened the door.

The now warm body he carried tensed on the middle of their way and the young man's eyes snapped open. Dean felt as his breath began to accelerate and he started to move, trying weakly to get away from him.

"Hey, hey. - It's OK." Dean tried to calm him down.

" _No, please. - Please don't._ ", the young man whimpered silently and his wet unfocused eyes started to dart around. " _Please don't. - Don't_."

Dean felt the body in his arms shudder and tremble, felt as his shirt caught the mans first tears. "Kiddo. - Shsh. No one's gonna hurt you, okay? I'm here to help you. Ellen's here to help you.", he whispered gently. "We'll take care of you."

He finally stepped over the threshold and targeted the farthest bed from the door. Ellen closed the door behind the two men and hurried to the bed, throwing back the comforter and covers, so Dean was able to lay the him down. He pulled the covers back up over the violently shivering body and laid a hand on the mans cheek.

"Look at me, boy.", he demanded softly and guided his face towards him. "We are not going to hurt you.", he said, looking into deep frightened green hazel-orbs. "No one of us is going to hurt you." The hunter brushed the tears from the younger mans cheek and put on a gentle smile, while he waited for any kind of response.

Then he nodded.

"OK. - Me and Ellen. We both are going to get you cleaned up and have a look at your bruises and injuries. - Then we'll see where we get some clothes for you.", Dean explained, arching both eyebrows, loosing himself in the younger mans glistening green eyes.

He nodded again, swallowing down a sob.

Ellen sat down on the other edge of the bed, unscrewing a water-bottle. "Look, Son.", she whispered and gave Dean a sign to help him and lift his head a little. Then she placed the bottle to his mouth and tipped it up. "Careful.", she said as the man tried to empty the whole bottle at once. "I know you're thirsty. - But you'll make yourself sick."

Dean let him back down on the pillow and tabbed his shoulder. "I'll go and get us the first aid kit." The man flinched away.

"I'll go and ask the owner for a basin or somethin'.", she gave back and got up, looking hesitantly at the both men before she left the room, while Dean went into the bathroom for the first-aid-kit he had stored there, recognizing that the man on the bed watched every move of him warily.

He set it on the nightstand and opened it, laying out bandages, antiseptic liquid, scissors, swabs, sterile needles and other things he thought he would need. "Do you have a name?", Dean asked as he sat back on the edge of the bed, trying to bypass the time until Ellen was be back.

The man sighed as he caught Deans asking gaze. "No.", he answered silently. "They didn't gave us names."

"How long have you been with them?", the hunter asked, taking the mans features in, wary of every emotion that crossed his bruised face and fear-filled eyes.

"Ever since." A silent tear rolled over the younger mans dirty cheek and he rolled to his side, away from the hunter and curled up on himself. Pulling his mind back inside a better place. Some place where he always went when things got bad. Somewhere where he felt safe.

Deans eyebrows furrowed and he laid a hand on the mans bicep, who flinched and tensed at the physical contact. "It's OK. - You don't have to talk about it ...", he whispered softy, feeling as the man started to shiver and heard muffled sobs, as he cried into the pillow.

The hunter sighed, shaking his head and stared at the first aid kit and then at the exposed skin of the younger mans shoulders and shoulder blades. There were a couple of gashes he'd have to stitch up, and some that would just need a proper cleaning.

After some time what had felt like an eon, Ellen came back with a plastic-basin and extra wash clothes and towels, carrying a cheeky smile on her lips. "It's always good to be a hunter.", she said mockingly and tossed the towels and wash clothes on the free bed before she went into the bathroom.

After a couple of minutes she was back and put the wash clothes back into the steaming water, then sat it down on the chair beside the younger mans bed.

Ellen frowned concerned as she realized the injured mans distress and shared a sad look with Dean, who seemed pretty helpless beside the crying man. The huntress sighed and sat down, running her hands thru the foreigner's dump hair, what caused another violent flinch.

"It's alright, hon. - Trust me. You've the mightiest hunter on your side, you know that? He's Dean Winchester. _The Dean Winchester_. And he's not going to let anything happen to you. - Ever.", Ellen smiled reassuring, though the young man didn't dare to look up. " _Am i right, Son?_ ", she looked challenging at the hunter on the other side of the bed.

Dean nodded baffled. "Sure. - Couldn't have said it better by myself."

"Look at me, Boy.", she turned back at the man on the bed, and tried to catch his gaze, but he didn't to notice her. Ellen sighed as she realized that it wouldn't make any sense to try and talk to him and laid her hand on the hem of the covers. "We're going to get you cleaned up together. - You help us and we'll be done easily."

No kind of response. Because he was somewhere better. Where he was alone with his pain and hurt and fear, and everything that frightened him. It was dark there, sure. But it was save. Because in his mind it was just him. Him and his thoughts and feelings, far away from the world out there.

Ellen pulled back the covers until the whole human body was exposed, and he curled up even tighter as the cool air touched his skin. The huntress took the first washcloth and slipped into it, squeezed it out and wiped gently over the one half of the younger mans face she had access to. He flinched again, clenching the pillow with his fist.

"It's just water, honey.", she said calmly and carried on, wiping over his neck and shoulders and waited for Dean to dry him up before she continued with his back. "Turn over.", she ordered softly and guided the man on his back. - He let her. And she continued to clean up his other side of the face and arm, his chest down to his stomach, trying not to touch the hurt areas too much. "You're doing a good job, Son.", Ellen praised him with a proud smile, while Dean listened carefully. He doubted that he was able to handle the situation that good.

The hunter went to his duffel-bag and unbagged one of his underwear-pants and laid it on the nightstand. The man had to get the filthy thing off ... who knew how long he wore it already ... and to be honest ... he stunk like dung.

Dean brushed carefully with the towel over the injured areas to dry him up and laid it aside as Ellen went to change the now dark-brown water. "A little bit longer and we're done, kiddo.", he tried to sooth the trembling man, not daring to touch him this time, afraid that he would scare him even more.

 _He_ stared on the ceiling, hoping that the humiliating situation would be over soon. He sensed that they were talking to him. The man and the woman, but he was too far away from where his body was to hear, nor understand what they were saying. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to know what they were telling him. Though they hadn't yelled at him yet so everything seemed to be alright for the moment.

As Ellen returned, Dean stood up and bowed over the man, trying to get eye contact. But he just stared at the ceiling, right thru the hunter who was trying to explain what they'd do next. With a low growl the Winchester moved slowly downwards and tugged on the waistband of the boxers, what immediately caused the younger mans attention. His hand shot up, clenching the waistband in his fist and holding it in place, while he tried to inch back somehow.

" _Don't. Please don't do that. - Please._ " Another reign of tears started to cover the mans cheeks, darting with blurry looks between the both hunters. " _I'll do what you want. - just not ... please. Not that ... please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._ ", he continued the mumbling while Dean and Ellen stared at him in shock. Shocked about the sudden strength the young man had and about what he obviously thought the both of them wanted to do.

Dean swallowed and took a deep inhale. A sudden wave of nausea caught him while he doesn't tried to imagine what it had to feel like being half naked with strangers after he had shared a lifetime with black-eyed monsters.

"Kiddo.", he said, trying to stay as calm as possible, and inched slowly forward while he showed his open palms to him. "We just want you to change your pants.", he continued as the man seemed to calm down and fixed Dean with a wary gaze.

The hunter reached for his black pants from the nightstand and showed them to Sam. "We won't touch you. - Promise." He hesitated. "But you don't smell like flowers to be honest."

Ellen shot him an upset glance.

"We just want you to help and change your boxers, OK?" the hunter's deep emerald-green orbs shone in facets the young man hadn't seen yet. Bright and filled with warmth and emotions he had nearly forgotten that they were existing. Then he nodded hesitantly and reached for the thin black fabric in the hunters hands, brushing over his knuckles and fingers before he took the pants in his hands. Then he pulled his knees closer, where he hid the little gift.

"Fine. - We'll turn around and you put them on.", Ellen said, changing a look with the hunter and they did.

The man nodded, not letting the both out of his watch. He slipped out of his once white boxers, throwing them beside the bed. Then he slipped into the new pants as fast as he was able to. Hissing in pain as every movement tore on his gashed and bruised skin. Trying to be done before they'd turn back around.

"Done?", Dean asked and glanced over his shoulder to see him vanishing under the covers. "Done.", the hunter said and looked nodding at Ellen. He turned around and eyed the now clean, but even worse looking man. "What about washing your hair too?", he asked, trying to read the mans emotions.

He nodded hesitantly and pulled the covers up to his chin.

Dean smiled softly and waved for the basin on Ellen's side of the bed. She handed it over and watched as the hunter tossed the pillow aside and shoved the basin under the mans head, holding him by the neck. He started to wet the dump hair carefully, since the younger man flinched and twitched every time he made a fast move, or unannounced touch. The hunter tried to lock his gaze with his every time green hazel-orbs started to dart around in panic. He felt the sticky and pretty ugly hair between his fingers. Nothing he'd do every day, definitely. Though ... it was different to clean a creatures hair and care for the thing, instead of stabbing or shooting, or burning it alive.

Meanwhile Ellen had brought some of her own shampoo and squeezed a giant amount of it on Sams head, whose heart would've won every cart-race-championship right now. But he slowly started to relax and calm down. Started to enjoy it a little bit, as gentle fingertips massaged the skin on his head and the warm water with whom Dean rinsed his hair. Trying to fix the older mans soft gaze every time another panic attack started to claim him.

The hunter smiled pleased as he noticed that the no-named man visible started to relax and his breaths became more calm and slow. He also had noticed the tattoo on the mans chest, right above his heart, what looked like a sigil to him. Dean tried to memorize it, because the man surely didn't seem like he would've given his consent to something like that.

When he was done, he nodded towards Ellen, who took the basin away and tugged a clean towel around the dripping wet hair. Both were convinced that it wasn't necessary right now to rub it dry. Not now where he had fallen asleep and seemed peaceful for the first time since they had gotten him down from the crucifix.

"You sure you wanna stitch him up?", Ellen asked quietly.

Dean dried his hands on another towel and tossed it on the floor. "Nahh. - They don't look that deep. And the bigger ones seem a couple of days old ... he'd been thru enough i guess." With one whack he seemed pensive and worried, his look glued to the man on the bed. "Might as well let him sleep as long as he's able to."

Ellen smiled impressed. "And i thought it'd take you longer not to see him as a monster." Her smile morphed into a big grin.

"Shut up.", Dean frowned and suddenly felt embarrassed that someone was looking thru the cracks of his charade.

"Watch your mouth, Son.", Ellen raised a finger to warn him, but her words sounded too soft to be a serious threat.

"Seen the tattoo?", he asked to change the topic.

She nodded. "The others had it too. - Right above their heart, like no-name here.", she answered, what let Dean look up.

"Huhh ..." Deans gaze flew thru the room and landed on Ellen. "Ain't a Coincidence then ..."

Ellen just nodded and rubbed tiredly over her face. Then she looked at the watch on her wrist and at the motel-room-door. "The others should be back soon. - I'll get us something to eat from the diner around the corner."

Dean nodded and sat down on the chair on the other side of the bed and ran his fingers thru his short hair, watching the sleeping man. "You better are one of the good guys.", he muttered and sighed as he recalled the easy hunt, but worried about the fallout before him. Even if _this thing_ ... _THIS MAN_ was a good guy, other people wouldn't understand. Most of them thought that monsters where monsters and humans were humans. There was no in-between. No half-humanity. Either you were a bad monster, or a good human. Dean knew that not all monsters were dangerous and/or a danger for humans, but did the others? Specially demons, and everything that looked like one was on the number-one-to-stab-list of most hunters. And the kid with his occasionally black eyes would be a welcome prey for them. And if they'd just let their frustrations out on him. He knew it. He had seen it before. That was why he prefered to go on his own hunts and trusted no one else besides Bobby, Ellen, Caleb or Pastor Jim. They all had seen enough to understand, accept and tolerate someone like the man before him. - At least he hoped so.

_... to be continued_


	2. Chapter 2

** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 3 ~ Tracked Down **

He didn't know how long he had slept. But he knew what had woken him. The smell of food and a bunch of voices. His whole body felt sore and was hurting, but there also was the pleasant feeling of comfortable warmth. Something he hadn't felt in a lifetime. A silent moan escaped his dry throat. Silent, but loud enough to stop the roaming voices and he sensed narrowing footfalls of heavy boots. The young man immediately cursed himself and tried to curl up tighter, making himself as small as possible. Tried to vanish under the soft sheets above him and sink into the mattress below.

Then there was something touching him. A hand on the covers, right where his shoulder was. _Oh god_ , how he wished that he had the gift to just disappear. He felt his own body as it started to shudder and wrapped his arms tighter around his chest and stomach, digging with his nails into the skin of his bicep.

"Good Morning, Kiddo.", a soft familiar voice sank into his ears. "Breakfast's waiting."

Fear rose inside him, as he tried to get his body under control. Panic crept into his veins as he wasn't able to tell who was talking to him. He knew this voice from the church and the motel-room he had been in. He was still with the hunters ...

Then the sheets lifted and backed away slowly from his head and shoulders and bright daylight burnt in his eyes as he blinked them open. He covered his face with his palms, not wanting to see, not wanting to smell, not wanting to feel anything. And not wanting to let anyone see his pitch-black eyes. He had been able to handle the black-eyed monsters, because he knew what made them tick. They had been just plain cruel. The pain of others had made them happy. So did fear, despair and terror - But hunters? No one knew what hunters were capable of. No one knew what made them do what they did. He had heard the demons talk about them, telling each other what they had done to other demons. And with his black eyes he was one of these monsters for the hunters too.

Dean sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling the nosy looks of his friends on his back and all over the sleeping place. The hunter sighed deeply and laid his hand on one that covered the young mans face, rubbing gentle circles into it with his thumb. "Look at me. C'mon." He gently guided the shaking hand down and caught one of the most spectacular moss-green hazel-eyes he had ever seen. Now in the light of day they had a whole lot more facets. And the soulful expression of them seemed a whole lot more human as yesterday.

The hunter smiled and arched an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side. "Thought you're more a waffles- and pancake-type.", he said, ignoring the younger mans attempt to pull the hand away. Instead he took the other hand and laid it on the one that was still covering the other half of the unnamed man's face and guided it down, holding both hands gently in his. "Wanna try to get up?"

Sam stared wide-eyed into the other mans eyes and shook his head in shock, trying to get a look at the others in the room.

"Sure. - I forgot.", Dean grimaced and glanced over his shoulder at the table where the other hunters had stopped with their breakfast at the first moan of the sleeping creature.

Pastor Jim got up instantly and tossed a bag with soft filling towards the hunter. Dean caught it and pulled two pieces of warm looking fabric out. "Pastor Jim thought they might fit." He grinned cheeky. "You gotta know, he's as much a sasquatch as you are." He chuckled and earned bugged look of the Pastor who cleared his throat. What didn't stop the youngest among the hunters to grin widely.

Something twisted in the young man's stomach, as the hunter pressed the clothes in his hands. "Warm." The hunter cocked both eyebrows in an approving gesture.

He helped the young man to sit up and held him for a while until he seemed stable enough to sit on his own. The creature glared at the men and the woman at the table, lowering his gaze shyly, as the woman called the three men not to stare ... and they followed her order.

Dean pulled the warm sweater over the younger mans head and held it up so he was able to slip in easily and tugged it down. Then he squat down in front of him and helped him to get his heavy legs into the wide sweatpants. With the hunter's help the younger man was able to stand up and managed to grab the waistband of the pants with his bony fingers to pull them up over his waist. He swallowed down a wave of nausea that tried to knock him out and it took him a couple of seconds to refocus his gaze. The hunter tugged the hoody back over the pants waistband and laid his flat palm on the lower back of the man and slipped under his shoulder.

The first few steps weren't a big problem. At least not for Dean, who tried to coordinate his footfalls with the once of the sasquatch beside him. The tall man's knees started to buckle after another couple of steps and finally lost the fight against his weakness about a yard in front of the free chair by the table. He felt another pair of hands on him before he could slip out of the hunters grip.

Bobby and Dean eased the panting man down on the chair, who didn't dare to look up. He just stared at the still trembling hands and skinny fingers in his lab. Now he wanted to vanish more than ever.

Dean inched closer with his chair towards the sasquatch and opened a small bucket with sweet waffles, which he placed in front of him, sticking the plastic-fork and a plastic-knife in their middle. Caleb handed one of the coffees over to put it there too. Then the whole crew continued to stare at the human looking form in front of them.

"Slow, OK? - Don't hurry, or you'll make yourself sick.", Ellen said quietly and nodded towards Dean, who nodded back.

The hunters have had a long talk, in the room next to Deans, during the past night. They had to come to terms of how to proceed with the things they had seen and what to do with the man next door. They discussed and over thought everything about a hundred times. In the end, and after Caleb had done some research in the police data-base for kids who had disappeared 22 years ago, when they were three years old, they had something like a plan. Fact was, that there had been dozens of missing three-year-old toddlers in 1986. And there was no way to say wich of them was mister no-name in the room next to them.  
Either way they weren't able to just let him go, since the man wouldn't have any idea how to catch up with life. Nor could they bring him into a hospital or psychiatric ward. As soon as they'd realize he wasn't quite human they'd call the first hunter they'd find and that would have been it then. On the other hand: Dean knew that all the possibilities they had figured out during the last night weren't acceptable. That was why he suggested that one of them would take him with. Because he might know something about the things that were going on among the demons, letting alone other important informations for the hunters.

AND they still had to figure out what he was, what they were. Because it looked like – basing on Caleb's research – there were more children like him.

Until then they had come to terms, that none of them saw a reason to not treat him like a human being. - At least for the moment. Like the sounds of what Ellen and Dean had witnessed while cleaning the boy up, he seemed pretty human. And if he would've been a demon or something demonic at all, he could've killed them all easily.

"Caleb there ...", he pointed at the man with the half-bald head, "... tried to find your name ... and family.", Dean started, watching the man warily. After there was no reaction he continued: "And ... we didn't find anything. - It's just ... just too long ago." Dean rolled his eyes about himself, not understanding what made him stutter like a little boy, since he was used to bring bad news. "Point is ... we need a name for you. So ... can you read?", he asked.

The young man had listened carefully, though he continued to stare on his slowly calming hands and nodded.

"Good. - We've made you a list." _... a list with all the first names of the children that went missing in 1986_. "And we thought you'd like to choose one of them." Dean laid a folded piece of paper beside the waffles-filled bucket and tipped on it. "And then ... we had to come to terms what we'll do with you."

The man immediately tensed visibly, still staring at his hands wich started to tremble more now.

"Hey. - We wouldn't try to find you a name if we would want to kill you." Dean chuckled and wanted to lay a hand over the man's, but before he was close to them, the man pulled his hands closer to his body. The hunter sucked air thru his teeth and shared a look with Bobby, who shrugged with a helpless expression on his face. "So ... thing is I thought that the best idea would be if you'd come with me."

The man blinked and glared thru long chestnut-brown bangs at the hunter beside him, taking in his features, his smile, his eyes and tilted his head to the side as his eyes flashed black and stayed that way longer than Dean had seen it before.

"Yeah and with that ... - Can you control it?", Dean asked hesitantly. "It's just ... it could get a little bit difficult to explain ... others might not want to accept you that way."

The man nodded as the blackness vanished and big hazel-eyes stared at the hunter. "Not always."

Dean nodded and tabbed at the small basket with the waffles. "Eat. - We have to hit the road before noon."

This felt weird. This felt like the most weirdest situation he was ever in. They had given him clothes and ... something to eat that wasn't a left-over from three days ago. But, even if they seemed nice right now, there was still the fact that these people were hunters and he was a monster. The black-eyed monsters had treated him like he had deserved it. They had showed him where his place was. And it was definitely not on a chair by a table among other beings. The floor was where he belonged to. Maybe this was just a test ... maybe they were waiting that he made a mistake to punish him. Maybe this was the beginning of a worse kind of hell than he had been before ...

Then there was silence. The hunters ate and short after they had finished they said good-bye for the moment. All that was left in the room were Dean and the young man and the mess the hunters had left on the small table

Dean eyed the young man and leaned back in his chair. "I'm gonna take a shower. - so ... you should eat and drink something. - you might don't want to, but I strongly suggest you to try." Deans words sounded like an order instead of a suggestion ... or warm invitation.

The man nodded again.

As he heard the shower going on, the young man pulled the fork and the knife out of the waffles and smelled on them curiously. Then he eyed the cup of coffee and took it, to make a careful zip from the warm liquid. It was sweet and ... it tasted like something familiar. He took another bigger swag and let it run thru his mouth and swallowed it down, feeling the warmth spread inside him.

While he tried a small piece of soft waffles, he eyed the plastic knife and then looked over his shoulder towards the bathroom-door and back again at the knife. He sniffed and took it with trembling bony fingers, stuffing another piece of waffles in his mouth. The man knew he had to do it. He had no other chance, if he wanted to be free one day. Stuffing another bigger piece of waffles in his mouth he raised swaying from the chair and laid a hand on his chest, right above his heart.

* * *

The hot water ran in small cascades over his well-built back, as he leaned with his forehead against the tiles, enjoying the comfort of being all by himself in a room for the first time in forty-eight hours. Not that the hunter didn't like company of good old friends or other people. It was just that he wasn't used to it. And according to what it looked like he wouldn't have some alone-time for a while longer.

Actually it was all Ellen's fault. She had talked him into this. She had told him, that his protection and lead was the best the kid could have, since she wouldn't be able to take him with her to the roadhouse. Too much hunters, too much traffic, and not to mention what would happen if one of them stumbled over him. It would've been like _all hell breaks loose_.  
Caleb was out of the game either way. - The guy wasn't even able to feed his cat, nor his gold-fish regularly.  
Pastor Jim would had a giant house with a lot of room. Though, there were foreign people and other hunters around most of the time and would have made it pretty difficult to hide the boy somewhere.  
And Bobby ... well, he had his own story why it wouldn't work with him. Including: he was still curious about the kid.

However ... somehow he started to feel responsible for the man. Not just because he had promised to Ellen to give him a chance. There was something in him that screamed for explanations _about what_ he was.

The hunter turned the water off with a sigh and grabbed for one of the towels wich he had thrown into the sink before, while something in his guts started to twist and rebel. Dean threw the towel aside after he had more or less dried himself up and listened cautiously. But there was nothing. It was _silent_. Maybe too silent? On the other side ... The man wouldn't try to stand up by his own, would he? Would he try to flee? ... Or worse ... would he try to kill the hunter? Waiting with the plastic-knife behind the door and attack him?  
Dean cursed himself for being that stupid and letting a monster have any sharp items.

The hunter cursed to himself in a whisper and hurried to get into his tee and pants, stumbling out of the bathroom while he still tried to get into his jeans. His first look was at the table. Dean instantly realized the half-eaten waffles and the half empty cup of coffee and the missing man. He looked around in a fury.  
"Kiddo?", he asked.  
No response.  
He cursed again, and there it was. A dark-brown mob of hair lurked out in between the beds. _Well, at least the monster hadn't tried to stab him_ , was the first thing that rushed thru his mind as he rounded the bed that was supposed to be Bobby's, to see the mess the man had created.

"What the hell?", Dean gasped in shock as he saw the man, beside him a bloody plastic-knife, and a bleeding gash on the right inner forearm. He crossed the distance in a single long stride, as he watched the man digging with his fingers in the wound. "Stop it.", Dean ordered, as he fell to his knees and gripped his arms by his wrists. " **Stop it.** ", he repeated as the other one tried to break free from his tight grip.

"I need to. - _Please_ , let me." Big watery hazel-eyes looked pleading at him .

"What are you doing, kid?" Dean looked at the bloody mess. "Trying to kill ya'self?"

"There's something. - Something in me.", the young man stuttered.

"Holy Crap.", Dean shook his head in disbelieve and took a deep breath, thinking that this was one of the worst choices in his life – to decide and take care of a messed up monster like this.

" _Please_. - They'll find me. They'll find you. Your friends. - _Please_." Tears ran down the man's cheeks in tiny waterfalls.

"Who?", Dean asked curious, not believing that he was getting into whatever the man thought he was doing.

"Demons. - Please. - Let me. I'll show you.", he pleaded, "It's under the skin."

Dean looked at the torn skin and flesh beneath. "That's a lot deeper as just your skin, kiddo." He then gazed back at the rapidly breathing man and shook his head. "Wait here. - I'll get you something better than a plastic-knife." With this words he let go of him and hurried to his already packed duffel to get the first aid kit. He returned to the man and opened it, laying the items of it on the floor in front of him. "And you are sure?" Dean laid his hands over the items, looking deep into the other mans eyes who nodded violently.  
The hunter pulled his hands back and watched the young man as he grabbed a pair of pincers, digging into the blood-oozing gash. A moment later he pulled them out again.

The young man held the pair of pincers in the air, so that the hunter could see _it_ to, whose eyes widened in shock as he recognized what the little thing could mean to all of them.

"I'll be damned.", he whispered in disbelieve and took the pincers with the small thing out of the mans hand and held it closer to his eyes, taking the chip-like form in. Then he looked at the man. "How did you know?" He stared at the thing and then at the man. "A damn tracking device. - Why didn't you tell us sooner?", he hissed angered.

The man flinched away and pulled his knees up to hide his face behind them. " _I'm sorry._ "

Dean sighed, trying to get his temper back under control. "They might not know yet. - So maybe we're lucky and they haven't tracked you – _us_ down yet." He pulled a zippo out of the front pocket of his jeans and held it into the flame until there was nothing more left than black stinky goo and the destroyed chip.

Then he instantly phoned the others to be ready in half an hour to hit the road. That was about the time he'd need to stitch and bandage the mans wound.

The hunter kneeled back down in front of the sasquatch and laid a hand on his knee. "We've to sew this up and get on the road.", he said firmly, guiding the knees down and taking the bloody arm, guiding it downwards, so he had a better look. "That's gonna burn a little bit.", he informed, changing a short glance with him and poured the antiseptic fluid over the gash.

The young man didn't even flinch.

"So ... you've chosen a name before you decided you gut yourself with a blunt cutlery?", Dean asked jokingly and arched an eyebrow, sharing another glance with the younger man before he made the first stitch.

"Sam.", he whispered silently, looking aside at the folded paper beside him. He didn't even had to unfold it. There was this memory of a long-haired blonde, blue-eyed angel, who he figured had been his real mother. She had yelled his name as they carried him away from her. Though ... he wasn't quiet sure if it was a true memory, but he wished it was.

"Fine, _Sam_. - I'm Dean." He nodded and made a second stitch. "Next time you feel the need to cut yourself, you tell me first, OK?" Dean stared warmly into troubled hazel-eyes, while Sam stared unsure into emerald-green ones.

Sam nodded. "You wouldn't have given me a knife if I would've told you ...", he answered and looked away. "You wouldn't have believed me."

Well, that was something the kid was right about. - He would've never given him knowingly a knife or any sharp object. The hunter in him would've prevented him from something stupid like this.

Dean put on a warm smile and made two more stitched before he poured another big amount of antiseptic-fluid over it and bandaged it tightly, so it'd hinder the bleeding.

Sam pulled the sleeve of his oversized hoody down and watched the hunter as he stuffed the items on the floor back into the kit, except a small white bottle, wich the hunter let slip into the pocket of his leather jacket. Then he returned to the man on the floor and offered him two white pills and a bottle of water.

"Take these. - Will make you feel a lot better before you know it." Another warm smile spread across the hunter's face and Sam did as he was told. "Fine.", Dean said as the younger man had gulped the pills down and tried to stand up by himself, just to feel his legs buckle again. And if there wouldn't have been the hunter to catch him, he would've kissed the floor seconds later.

"Easy, Sam. - Nice and slow.", the hunter said, as he half-walked, half-carried him towards the Impala and leaned him against the car while he opened the passenger's door.

Dean laid a hand on the mans chest to stop him from falling forward, as he swayed and held him in place, eying the pale face and shallow orbs. "Lets get you inside.", Dean muttered and helped him to sit down and as his long legs were stored inside he slammed the door shut.  
The hunter hesitated for a moment, watching Sam in worry before he got back into the room and gathered his stuff to store it in the trunk. Then he claimed his place on the driver's seat, glancing at the – now curled up – tall man beside him, who rested his sweaty forehead on the cool glass.

"If we need to stop, you'll say it, OK?", Dean remembered him softly.

The man continued to stare out of the window, obviously too far gone to recognize his surroundings anymore.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later the Impala and a Pick-Up-Truck drove out of the parking lot, heading east. Ellen had left an hour earlier with the body of her beloved daughter. Dean had called her to make sure she was alright after he had talked to the others. To his relieve she was okay and save on her way home.

While Sam sat calm and still on his seat staring out of the window, Dean glanced over to him every now and then, making sure the man wouldn't get sick from the drive. So far everything seemed to be alright. Much to Dean's relieve.  
Later during the drive he pushed one of his tapes into the cartridge drive and turned it on. Trying to bridge the time with some music. With no one beside him, it felt easier not to talk and just listen to the music. But now that there was someone with him, sitting right next to him and no one was talking felt odd. Though he knew the man wouldn't want to talk, even if he tried to get him into a conversation.

The hunter tried to distract himself with the list of names he had given to Sam and tried to remember if there had been a Sam or Samuel or any other name that could've been the source for the chosen name.

"What will you do to me?" Sam's whispering voice rose him out of his thoughts.

Dean gazed at the passenger's seat to see the young man leaning against the door and staring out of the window, asking himself if he had really heard him say something, or if it had been just in his imagination. Deciding that it wasn't an imagination after he saw a tear running down the younger mans cheek, he answered, "I'm not going to do anything to you, Sam." and furrowed his eyebrows, trying to bring his focus on the street again.

"That's what _they_ said too ..." His voice shivered and he sniffed, before he swallowed a silent sob.

Something in Deans gut twisted and a lump grew in his throat, making it impossible for him to say something right away. The hunter inhaled and let out a long drawn breath. He felt embarrassed about the fact that he had even thought about killing the kid in the first place – at least somehow. And he felt embarrassed that he had thought that Sam would try and kill him.

If Sam would've been working with the demons, he wouldn't have tried to remove the tracking device, nor would he have showed it to him.

"I'm not _they_.", he gave back and stole a glance at the young man beside him. "Look. - I can't say that I trust you. - But I sure as hell won't hurt you knowingly ... as long as you won't hurt someone."

Sam stole a glance at the older male and stared back out of the window. _Sure_ , he said to himself, _as long as the hunter had his temper under control. As long as he wouldn't do anything to make the hunter mad. As long as the hunter had his fun with the monster ..._ Sam closed his eyes and a shuddering exhale came over his lips. He tangled his shaky fingers together, trying to hold the rising fear and panic at bay that threatened to overwhelm him once again.

 _Suddenly_ there was _something_ that mixed with the building threat in his gut. Crawling and clawing in the depths of his mind. A _presence_ that he hadn't felt since the black-eyed monsters in the church had gotten exorcised. His eyes snapped open and his eyes were tainted as black as the darkest of nights.

"What the ..." Dean's eyes narrowed as they drove out of the curve and his gaze got caught by a barrier of cars, about half a mile in front of them.

He was about to put his foot from the gas pedal to slow down, as he noticed the shapes of about ten human looking figures, but the pedal wouldn't obey. Instead the gas pedal pushed further down and the engine roared up. Instinctively the hunter reached for the ignition keys, but a giant hand stopped him before he was able to lay a finger on them.

"I'm not going back.", Sam said with an – for Dean – unfamiliar foreign tone in his voice.

"Sam?", the hunter asked shocked, realizing that Sam was about to try and crash thru the damn barrier in front of them.

The young man looked at Dean with a blank expression on his face, black eyes glistening in despair. "Don't worry. - I'm going to get you and your friends thru this.", he said and looked back thru the windshield at the barrier. "No matter what happens – don't stop."

The hunter stared wide-eyed at the barrier that came closer rapidly. "Stop the damn car.", Dean hissed, trying to get his instincts and racing thoughts under control.

"I can't. - They will kill you and your friends. - And I can't let that happen." The creature beside him started to sound stressed, and its face covered into hard strained lines. "I can't let them do this again."

The hunter shot a glance at the completely messed up man beside him, trying to decide to either trust Sam, who had wanted to die twenty-four hours ago. Or to try something and stop him from crashing his Baby and kill them both within the upcoming fifteen seconds. Because there wasn't much more time left until they'd hit the cars in front of them.

_... to be continued_

* * *

** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 4 ~ Saving You **

That was the moment when the hunter realized that it was too late to stop Sam, nor his Baby. Too late to even scream, nor take a last inhale before they'd crash. Then everything happened within the same few moments.

The big black SUVs that built a barrier across the road in front of them moved. No, not _moved_. More like _getting shoved_ apart. Metal colliding with metal, metal grinding against metal. Wheels rubbing over pavement and surprised looking black-eyed monsters in front of them – bewildered in the darkest of realizations what had to come, what was going to happen.

In nearly the same split of a second, Sams body tensed, clenching his hands to fists, tightening on empty air, nails digging into flesh until they drew blood.

Too fast to be seen by the hunter behind the steering wheel, the blackness in the hosts eyes blazed like the glut of blazing charcoals and disappeared. Leaving the true colors of their orbs from whom the spark of live drove out before the inanimate bodies crumbled to the ground.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut as his Baby rattled over the dead bodies, so did the speeding up Pick-Up-Truck behind them.

Dean felt the gasp dial loosen and saw the car of his friends in the rearview mirror speeding up, after he had fallen back a couple of yards. For a moment Dean stared into nothing, panting, he had nearly peed himself, his eyes wide open and big as cartwheels. _They were alive._

" _Sam_.", he breathed, snapping his head to the right, as he pushed the gas pedal down to hold their speed. He looked into a pair of empty, hollow hazel-orbs and dilated pupils. " **Sam?** ", the hunter asked again, this time with a fair amount of realization and panic in his voice.

The young man stared. Not moving. Not responding. Just staring. Every fibre in his body told him to slam in the breaks and check on the kid beside him. But no, he couldn't. Sam had said he shouldn't stop, whatever might would happen. With a good reason ... a look into the rearview mirror showed him something big and black slowly appearing on the road behind Bobby's Pick-Up. Still far away, but not far enough, and the damn vehicles seemed to get closer.

Dean cursed and hissed glancing at the young man beside him again. "Damn it." Sam must've known what would happen. Must've known that the barrier wasn't everything they had to worry about. The hunter shot another glance into the mirror, then again at the man in the passenger's seat. Still unmoving, still staring into nothing, but he was breathing. Slow and shallow but he was breathing.

Dean fumbled his phone from the bottom of his jacket's pocket and pressed the five. Bobby's caller-ID showed up on the display and it didn't even had to ring once.

 _"Kid, you OK?"_ , was the first thing he heard. The old hunter sounded confused, shocked and something he haven't heard yet in the hunter's voice so far: **FEAR.**

"Sure. - But Sam ain't." He answered shortly. "We've bad company. - black, big and probably mad.", he shot another glance into the rearview mirror. The damn bulls of cars were getting closer, though they seemed to be about over half a mile away. "Wanna play hide and seek?" Dean put on a knowing grin, targeting the next bend.

They were in the middle of a forested area and they wouldn't have any chance to try and flee on their feet. At least not with the not-responsive sasquatch beside him. And there'd be no way he would've left him behind. Not ever. These black-eyed bitches had pissed him off enough already. _Besides_ : When the kid was worth it to be tracked down and followed by a garrison of demons he had to be important for them. What meant Sam was important to the hunters.

They passed the next mile-marker behind the bend saying 67.9 and that was where their cars vanished from the road like they've gotten whipped away by nothing but empty cold winter's air.

Dean, Bobby, Jim and Caleb hurried to lay the cut off branches over the visible parts of their cars, hiding them as good as possible. They had decided to keep their heads down for a couple of hours and continue their drive after nightfall.

Sometimes it was better to hide than being dead. Dean Winchester knew that. Sometimes it was pointless to try and fight a battle when you knew you couldn't win it.

The first thing after they had hidden their cars, Dean slid back behind his steering wheel, moving the seat backwards and started to check on his passenger. He held two fingertips on his neck checking Sam's pulse – slow and hardly noticeable, but it was there. The hunter laid a hand on the mans cheek and rubbed a thumb over the area of his cheek bone. His skin felt so cold. So damn cold.

"Sam?", he asked not hiding the urge behind his request. He needed to know if this was normal or if he had to start panicking. "C'mon kiddo. - Talk to me.", he demanded more firmly, trying to find any sign of life in those widened eyes. "You scared the shit out of us, ya know? I thought you're gonna crash my baby." He smiled slightly, happy about the fact that he had been wrong. "AND i nearly peed myself. - You're so gonna pay for that shit later."

The young man remained in his catatonic status. Though his pupils seemed to started and react to light again. - just a little bit.

"You'll have to explain that later, I'm tellin' ya." Dean eyed the blank expression on the young man's face. Though he knew there was nothing to explain. Sam had saved them. Literally saved their asses from being tortured and slowly killed. They could've been all dead or worse right now.

Dean lurked at the backseat and eyed two blankets as it started to get cold inside the car. The hunter knew the temperature would drop further until they would start driving again. So they'd have to keep themselves warm somehow, since there was no chance in hell he'd dare to start the engine again before dusk. It was too dangerous and they didn't know if the demons would look for them. His instincts told him that it was better if they would stay over night in case the demons would make up another barrier. But his gut told him that they couldn't. Not if Sam wouldn't improve soon. And he sure as hell wouldn't watch the kid die beside him. Not ever. Not after what he had done for them. He owed him that much.

"OK – listen. - That's important Sam. If you're somewhere in there and hear me ... we've to stay warm." Dean cleared his throat. "That's why I'll move you on the backseat. - So ... don't freak out." He thought about the situation in the motel room as he and Ellen wanted to change the man's underwear. "I won't do anything to you. - I won't touch you. Promise.", he stared into two big - still dilated – black pupils with a thin green line around them. "Because I'll close your eyes now to prevent you from the bright light outside, OK?"

The young man didn't move, not even blink and Dean wondered if there was still a soul behind those hollow orbs. However. He had to keep the both of them warm, because they had to await about -27°F until tonight.

Then he worked fast and careful at the same time, as he maneuvered the man onto the backseat and settled himself beside him. Deciding that this wasn't an ideal position to share body-warmth he covered his back with one of the blankets he had thrown over the drivers seat and leaned against the cool interior panelling of the door and tugged it around his shoulders. Then he pulled the tall man up until his back was leaning against the hunters chest and covered him with the other – thicker – blanket, taking care that every inch of him was under it. Dean then dove with his arms under the cover and wrapped his left arm around Sam's stomach and laid his right hand on his chest, so he was able to watch over his breathing.

"That's going to be long seven hours.", Dean muttered to himself, tilting his head to the right until it leaned on the backrest.

After a while the hunter felt as the both of them started to warm up and in a very weird way it felt comfortable. Feeling another body as close to his – neverminding the reasons for such a situation – had been a while. Though he had to admit this wasn't the same like it was with Lola ... or _the other one_ , but it felt good somehow. When did a hunter ever had a chance to cuddle up with a monster anyway? Dean smiled about the thought and shook his head slightly, unconcsiously rubbing gentle circles into the thick fabric of Sams hoody around his navel. Not long time had passed since then that the hunter dozed off into a light sleep, still aware of his surroundings and the danger they were still in.

* * *

First he didn't realize what had woken him. He just knew that something must had woken him. Though it didn't feel like something dangerous or unpleasant. The hunter shifted a little bit, aware that he captured a fragile life in his arms, tugging Sam closer with the arm he had still wrapped about the younger man's middle.  
Then he felt it. - A movement. Just as airy that he could've missed it. And then there was this feeling of being _watched_ , _observed_ , _taken in_.

The hunter blinked his sleepy eyes open and clicked with his tongue in an unconciously gesture as he did always when he first woke up. Dean sucked in a deep breath and felt the body in front of him going rigid. So he looked down on himself and followed the string of muscles on Sams neck upwards until he met two giant frightened hazel-orbs watching him wary.

"Hey Sam." Dean yawned and blinked to clear his vision after he was still caught in the fine tendrils of sleep. He felt the accelerating rhythm of the younger mans breathing under his palm, wich still rested on Sams chest. "It's fine. - We're just trying to stay warm, sasquatch." He cocked an eyebrow as he caught himself as he started to rub gentle circles into Sams hoody again. "Promise." he smiled reassuring and continued to circle Sams navel with the tip of his index finger – not sure if he wanted just the young man to calm down or himself too. "Try to relax.", the hunter said softly and tugged the younger male even closer, feeling his warm breathes on the sensitive skin of his neck.

Slowly but surely Sam started to give in and ease off in his arms, letting his back sink back against the hunters chest and wrapping his own arms around himself as he curled up on the backseat. After another while the younger man snuggled closer and shifted, until his ear rested right above Deans heart, listening to the steady and slow **thump ... thump ... thump.**

The hunter was surprised that Sam had even accepted that they were that close. He had rather thought that the young man would completely freak out and flee to the other side of the backseat in full-panic-mode. And yeah ... this felt weird somehow. Dean wasn't used to cuddle. Wasn't used to be used as cushion. Either he was used to this kind of closeness with another person – in this case not even human. Not with a _foreigner_. Not if it wasn't meant as an afterplay of something _very very very_ exiting. And though. Somehow a faint smile arose on his lips, spreading all over his face and he just couldn't leave it to this. He had to wrap his arm around the man tighter, who was obviously damn fascinated by his heartbeat, and buried his fingers in the man's chestnut-brown mop.

* * *

It was so cosy and warm and felt so unbelievable safe. So very safe. For the first time in a long time – for the first time since forever he didn't feel alone.

Maybe it had been the womans words back at the motel _"It's alright, hon. - Trust me. You've the mightiest hunter on your side, you know that? He's Dean Winchester. The Dean Winchester. And he's not going to let anything happen to you. - Ever."_ Though he knew it wasn't true. The hunter would want to use him, that was why he was still alive, still treated with some kind of respect. But surely it wouldn't last long. It'd end as soon as he made a mistake, or the hunter realized that he was useless. He knew as soon as the hunters wouldn't need him anymore, he'd be dead anyway. Dying as the useless monster that he was after all. Somehow Sam wished that they'd use him as bait for the demons and he wished that they wouldn't let him suffer afterwards, that they'd make it quick and painless.

Sam didn't care as the coldness started to nibble on his toes, creeping slowly but surely up on him, taking in his feet. He was just tired. Too tired to pay attention to the thirst tugging on his throat, that he was too tired to think. But he wasn't too tired to care about the feeling that let his gut twist as he sensed them. - The black-eyed monsters were out there. _He felt them._ Coming closer and backing away again, as like they weren't aware that the hunter and he were right in front of them. Sam decided to say nothing about any of this.

The hunter shifted a little. Tightening his grip around him. And a part of him feared that the demons would find them though. Would find the hunter. That the demons would make him hurt them. And he didn't want to hurt anyone anymore. Sam knew that the hunters were vulnerable like this at the moment. With this thoughts he drifted off into a light sleep of bewildering dreams about his past and the present.

* * *

Dean Winchester. The Dean Winchester felt the cold air gnawing on his ears and nose. The temperature had dropped once more in the past hour and he tugged the blanked up, pulling it with a tight grip of his stiffening fingers over his head to prevent him more from the freezing cold that lingered outside the car. And it was the first time, that he regretted his decision to stay in the woods on the end of nowhere to hide. Now that the temperature was dropping further he couldn't be sure if his Baby would start up later. Nor if Bobby's old vehicle would roar to live again.

Though – they'd wait for another hour, hoping, praying that it'd work and that they'd be home soon. Back in his warm appartement with the central heating. Sipping a steaming cup of coffee, eating a bowl of chili and watching a movie. - Or so. At least after he would've settled Sam somewhere. Somewhere would be unfortunately the couch right in front of the TV. On the other hand ... he'd have a pretty good few from his bed to the TV though. - That was when he realized, that he wouldn't be able to call Lola AND _the other one_. Not with Sam right beside them. _Oh god_... what had he just agreed to?

He had agreed to be not selfish. He had agreed to save a tortured body and mind. To take care of him and to try and make it better. He promised it to himself here and now, where he held the most vulnerable and at once the most strongest creature against his chest. He had never seen someone – SOMETHING – doing THIS to a demon, let alone to seven of them. The hunter haven't even heard of psychics being able to destroy the hell-bound spawn. Dean Winchester swore that he would try and take the fear and the hurt from the young man. That he would try and get him ready for the world outside. That he had to show Sam, that he hadn't to be afraid of him.

And this was the moment Dean Winchester felt easier around his heart and soul for the very first time in years.

* * *

He had let the younger male sleeping on the backseat of his Baby while he drove homewards. _South Dakota, Sioux Falls, Sycamore Ave, 7/13b._

The hunters had decided to split up from where they had hidden and meet up in a couple of days again. Dean was heading to his appartement on the eastern end of Sioux falls, while Bobby and the rest was heading to the Salvage on the very outskirts on the western side of the town.

Their drive was calm and just less cars crossed their way, since it was in the middle of the night and most people stayed at home, afraid to be caught by any kind of monster that was hunting human asses. Even most of the properties had made up laws, so that two days before and two days after and of course the full-moons-night itself was bound to the curfew.

The hunter glanced into the rearview mirror once again. Now there was another responsibility in his life beside hunting and he'd try and make it good. As good as he possibly could. The kid had probably saved their lives and he'd make it up to him, try and give him a new one. Though he didn't fool himself. Dean knew that there was just a little chance that the man on his backseat would be able to have something like a normal life. - But he could teach him. Show him how to defend himself, how to survive in the world out there. And maybe – just maybe he'd get over his past. Over what he had to suffer the passed years. And something told him, that he'd fail. That he'd fail miserably to try. Because the boy had no idea about what life was like out there. Had no idea that every single hunter would be on his tail if someone cared about what he was. And there was always someone who cared. Even when it was just the friendly old woman from next door.

So no. - Sam wouldn't have a normal life – ever.

* * *

Three hours later they arrived on the open-air parking lot of the appartement complex where Dean lived – more or less.

The hunter got out of his car, pushing the door behind him shut. Silently - so he wouldn't wake the man on his backseat instantly. He slipped in on the back of his Baby and thought about the best way to wake Sam. After a while of watching and taking him in. Realizing that the demons must have given him hell. The male seemed so unnaturally thin, dark half circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept in a week.

Dean sighed and shook his head. He'd take care of him and make him better. Ellen counted on him. And because of everything that was holy. He wouldn't be a damn Winchester if he wasn't able to get the boy fed up again. _But first things first._

"Hey.", he whispered and squeezed the younger mans shoulder tightly.

Sam bolted upright, inching back until his back pressed against the door, sending Dean on the other side of the backseat. The hunter rose his hands, showing his empty palms. "It's just me, Sam. - Just me, OK?" Dean looked wide eyed at him.

Sam stared at the oder male. Fear and terror written all over his face. Eyes wide with horror, taking the hunter in warily. He was still caught in the fine webs of his dreams and bright reality looking at him with reassuring emerald-green eyes.

"I'm sorry.", Sam stuttered shocked, trying to understand what had woken him and what the hell the hunter was doing on the backseat with him.

"Nothing to be sorry for. - We're at my appartement. Time to get movin'." Dean smiled gently and offered his hand to the man, who rubbed with trembling fingers over his eyes and face.

Sam nodded and reached for it hesitantly, letting him be helped out of the car and to stand up. Sam's knees buckled and he swayed. The world around him was spinning and the healing gashes and bruises all over his body ached from the uncomfortable angle he slept in at the backseat. But he took it as he was used to. Not showing the pain. Not showing that he was hurting as hell. Not showing how weak he really felt - and in fact was.

Dean held him for a moment, right where the younger man stood, letting him adjust to the fresh air and his surroundings. That was when the hunter noticed that Sam hadn't even shoes. That he stood barefeet on the ice-cold gravel, digging toes into the little frozen and sharp stones.

The hunter could've bitch-slapped himself right there, as realization took him. The man had nothing. No clothes, no shoes, no money, nor an insurance. So all he would be able to was to go to a pet-doctor. Sounded crazy? Yeah, kind of was it. Hunters used to go there with their "pets". Not dogs or cats, or other animals. When Dean was thinking about pets, it meant shifters, wendigos, vetalas and other monsters. Some hunters had a whole basement full of them. Locked in small cages, keeping them barely alive except they needed them for an upcoming hunt, then they would feed them and get them back on their feet for what they'd use them. Vetalas were mostly used as bait. Their human appearance and smell, mixed with their slight taste of venom was like a magnet to werewolves.

The hunter wrapped an arm around Sams back and let him lay an arm around his neck. They made their way inside like this. Gladly Deans appartement was the furthest one on the main-floor and they hadn't that far.

Inside the appartement, Dean switched on the light and guided the – now sweat-soaked, deadly pale – man to the couch where he let him sat down. Sam was immediately inching back into the corner of the couch and curled up into a tight ball, burying his face in his knees as he shivered from the cold weather and his cold feet. He rubbed his toes with long fingers, trying to get them warm again.

Dean turned up the heater, hurried to his bed – just 3 yards away from the couch – and grabbed the comforter, wich he threw over Sams shoulders and tugged it tightly around the shivering man. The hunter tried to ignore the flinches and twitches and jerks Sam made when he was moving too fast, or a loud noise was heard.

At least he had gotten a hint with a fencepost as he had seen the young man's bare feet. He had to go shopping tomorrow. Had to stuck up on food and get socks, shirts and trousers for the man. He had to get some protein-shakes and bars and maybe he'd get some vitamin-pills too. He just wasn't sure if he was able to let the unsecure man all on his own in the appartement. It wasn't like he wouldn't trust him – well he didn't trust him, at least not completely. His worry was about if Sam would be OK to stay on his own for a couple of hours.

Of course he could've called Bobby, Caleb or Jim. But they didn't know if they were watched. Demons were nasty little bitches. Sometimes they liked to play with their food before they killed it slowly. So no, there was no way he'd called anyone to give him a list with supplies.

Dean sat down on the couch, close to Sam and slipped with his warm hands under the comforter, right where his feet had to be. And he loosened the males cold fingers from the even colder toes and massaged and rubbed them for a long while. Sam watched him closely, completely rigid and high alert, not daring to relax just a little bit. He knew how fast obscure seeming situations could end up in something _very very very_ bad. And there were a couple of things he knew he wouldn't want to let happen ever again.

The hunter wrapped his fingers around the still cool giant toes under the blanket, squeezing them tight as he looked up into tired hazel-orbs. "Better?", he asked.

Sam blinked and nodded slowly.

"Good." Dean smiled slightly and withdrew his hands, patting on his own knees. "I'd say we should get something to eat ..." Dean eyed his puny attempt of a kitchen to the left and cocked an eyebrow. "Do you like pizza?" He looked back at Sam, smiling gently.

Sam nodded slowly, crinkling his now warm toes together, rubbing against the soft surface of the couch.

Half an hour later the doorbell rang and their pizza got delivered. In the meanwhile Dean had separated a pillow and blankets for later, when he'd leave Sam alone on the couch to get some sleep.

The hunter settled down on the other side of it, putting two cartons of pizza on the table before them. Then he glanced at Sam while he opened the first one. "Bacon, pepper, mushrooms, tomatoes, cheese and some other things?", he asked, taking Sams face in. "That's the SPECIAL."

There was no reaction, so he popped the second one open. "Sweet corn, tomatoes, chicken pineapple and cheese?"

No respond either. Not even a blink, like before.

"OK – then lets get started with the _special_ before we're heading for the **hawai**.", Dean put on an uneasy smile and laid a big piece of the special on a plastic-plate and held it towards the younger male. Then he placed a coke in front of him on the table.

Sam reached for it hesitantly with shaky hands and lowered his legs down the couch to place the plate on his lab. Dean took another piece of the special, eating it greedily since he felt like a starved man.

He didn't need a plate.

Now and then he shot a glance to the other end of the couch to check on how Sam was doing with the pizza, he felt a little bit concerned. The young man first picked the mushrooms off of it and ate the small pieces, then the peppers and tomatoes and finally, after Dean had already finished half the pizza on his own, he started to tear the bottom with the cheese and red sauce into small pieces before he ate them hesitantly.

"Don't you like it?" At least it looked like that for Dean.

"It's fine. - Thank you.", Sam replied, tilting his head to the side and watching the last piece of pizza in his fingers curiously.

"Well than." Dean frowned – maybe it wouldn't be that easy as he had thought. The hunter took the plastic-plate from Sams lab and placed another piece of pizza on it.

He had imagined that Sam would be half starving and that he'd be eager to get something in between his teeth. But it didn't seem that way. Instead he stripped the pizza carefully as he feared that something that could hurt him, would be hidden in it.

Sam didn't finish the second plate, but emptied the coke on the small table before him. Instead he wrapped his arms around his stomach and curled up again on the couch, watching the hunter finishing another half of the other pizza. The younger male was completely stunned how someone was able to stuff that much food into his mouth. This man had to burst somewhen, didn't he?

Dean leaned back with a moan and rubbed his tummy in bliss. They sat there for a while – just like this.

"Sir?", a hesitantly request was made.

Dean looked up and at Sam and cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Can i – am i – i have to ... please can i visit the toilet?", Sam asked, looking aside, cheeks blushing in a deep red.

Dean chuckled. "Sure." He pointed beside the door where they had entered the appartement, where a curtain hid a small alcove. "The light switch's inside on ya left."

Sam nodded. "Thank you, Sir.", he whispered and got up. Swaying and slowly heading towards the place his bladder called him.

"You can grab a shower too if you want. - Towels are inside.", Dean's gaze followed the young man warily. Holding himself back, not to go after him, not to try and help him. "If you need help just call, Sam." But he couldn't. Afraid he'd scare the younger man with his behaviour even more.

"Yes Sir.", was a silent respond and he vanished behind the curtain, tugging it streight so no one was able to lurk thru any gaps.

The hunter leaned back again and shook his head, looking at the half-eaten pizzas. At least he wouldn't have to cook something tomorrow. And by cooking was meant: shoving something into the microwave or opening a tin with chili or soup.

Dean glanced towards the shower curtain that separated the small alcove from the rest of the tiny appartement as he heard the water going on and a soft moan from behind the curtain was heard. A satisfied smile spread across his face and within seconds he had dozed off – heavy from the food and the two bears he had emptied.

But not for long. A loud thump snapped him out of his blissful starting dreams about ... Lola and ...

"Damn it.", the hunter squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. For a moment he was disoriented, didn't know where he was and what it was, until he remembered. He listened and still heard the water running and gurgling into the outlet. That was when he blinked confused. How long had he been out? - Not too long, because the third beer on the table was still cool and the pizza warmer as a cold one.

Then he remembered the thump and his hunter senses kicked in in a split second, jumping up and reaching the shower curtain within two long strides, ripping it aside. Deans gaze fell on the tall man, who laid panting in the middle of the shower and the water-stream ... naked. Staring at the hunter in shock, wide-eyed, covering his private parts and inching back into the corner, feeling warmed up tiles against his back. Dripping wet bangs of hair hung into his eyes and face. Unfocused, dilated hazel-eyes were targeting the hunter warily.

"You OK?" Deans eyebrows furrowed and he squat down. Maybe he shouldn't have let him try to get there on his own.

Sam nodded, the arm on whom he held his weight up on an elbow trembling like he was going to lose his strength every minute.

Dean grabbed one of the towels wich hung over the small radiator on the opposite side on the wall of the toilet and showed it to the young man. "I'm gonna get in, turn the water off and help you dry up." He said with soft voice.

Sam stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

"I'm not going to do anything, you hear?", Dean stood up and came slowly closer, reaching for the knob and turned the water off and squat down again. "I'm just here to help."

The younger male pressed his aching back against the tiles, shivering from the cool air as the hot water stopped raining down on him.

"I swear. - I'm not touching _you_." Dean eyes gazed over Sams hand wich was still covering his very private parts and up again to look into glistening hazel-eyes. " _I swear_."

And he wouldn't. Wouldn't even try. Not because he was a monster and filthy and things. Because it would've been just wrong. Dean Winchester would've lied to himself if he wouldn't have admitted that the younger man was attractive. Damn, the guy right in front of him was – though the loss of weight, scars, gashes, lacerations and bruises – one of the most handsome men he had ever seen. Not even ... he was still thinking about a name for something like Lola's companion was. The one whose company he sometimes chose ... So no, not even Alex – who was by the way a damn well-built man – would've been able to surpass Sam. Wich was not the point. - The point was that he wasn't a needy bastard who'd try and bang (Winchester's words) a helpless creature.

The hunter narrowed slowly and tugged the towel over Sams head, rubbing the hair until it was soaked with water. Sam lurked up at him, trying to hold still, big blazing hazel-orbs never letting off of the hunter, who was focused on the tasks before him and nothing else.

Half-dry chestnut-brown hair hang into Sams face, thru wich he looked, trying to examine the hunters face for any signs of emotion. But he didn't find one. His face was as unreadable as a blank sheet of paper in the darkest night. Dean looked at him for a moment and grinned gently as he tugged one of his bangs behind the man's ear.

"I'm gonna dry you up and then we'll head back on the couch and you'll get some rest." Dean said low, trying even harder to focus on the task at hand and not to look too much into those intense, drowning-deep mossy hazel-eyes.

When the hunter was done, he helped Sam up to his feet, feeling them buckle as soon as he stood and felt the young man sway and tremble. He wasn't able to hold him up and on his feet.

Sam felt too exhausted to even think. The thing he had done with the demons ... ripping their black souls out of their hosts ... had cost him a whole lot of the strength he had left and beyond. He knew it would happen. And a little part of him had hoped that the hunter saw what he saw in himself. A helpless, useless thing that was afraid of everything and everyone. Whose nerves were wrecked and whose mind was a mess.

But _no_. The hunter had taken him with him though. Had gotten him something to eat and to drink. Something that was fresh cooked (or in this case ordered) and let him sit somewhere else as on the ground. Let him sleep on the backseat of the car and not in the trunk and had made up a place for him on the couch. He helped him to get dressed and gave him a fresh pair of underwear. Maybe the hunter would still need him for something. Maybe he wasn't done yet. And Sam feared the pain and hurt that might lay in front of him.

Because they all broke at some point. Showed their true faces at some day. As the demons had done, had tried to break HIM. And to be honest. Humans weren't that different as demons, were they?

_... to be continued_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 5 ~ Stroll Together**

It was the same night, almost five in the morning, when Dean bolted upright in his bed. Woken by agonizing bone-shuddering screams. His eyes darted thru the room, searching for an invisible threat. At least his instincts had screamed at him that it had to be invisible since there was nothing around to slaughter.

Though it was impossible, since the hunters appartements were protected seven days from sunday. There was no way that ANYTHING was able to get in … _nor out._

„Sam?", he asked, still his drawn hunting-knife in his hand, sliding out of his bed and moving forward like a predator searching his prey.

There was no answer. Just silent whimpering and sobs.

The hunter moved to the couch where he thought he'd find the source of interruption in the middle of the night. But nope. The couch was empty. Pillow, blanket and comforter dishevelled. Dean laid the knife on the table in front of the couch as he had rounded it and checked the spare illuminated room, until he noticed a slight movement in the part of the appartement that was meant to be a kitchen.

A swallowed, hiccupped sob drew his attention closer to the kitchen and into the furthest corner of the room. Right where a sideboard met the wall, something was moving. - Rocking back and forth.

„Sam?", Dean asked, pinching the bridge of his nose before realization struck him and he stroke with a palm over his face. „Hey – you okay?" Actually a stupid question. _Nothing_ seemed to be okay right now.

The hunter narrowed slowly, getting on his knees in front of the shaking form before him and laid a hand on his knee. Just letting it rest there, and waited. He didn't know what he was waiting for, but he was waiting. - Just like that. But it didn't do any good. The young man just curled up tighter and sobbed and cried into his sweatpants.

Dean didn't know what to say. What was he supposed to say to a crying man? What words was he supposed to choose without making it worse?

So he did what Ellen had told him: He listened how his gut was feeling about this. What his heart and soul told him to do, since he wouldn't find words. Dean Winchester inched closer and wrapped his strong arms around Sam. Brushing airy over his back, not to inflict pain on his torn skin. And than, then came the words. Words he would never admit that he'd say out loud.

„It's going to be okay.", Dean whispered gently and laid his forehead against Sam's dark-brown mop of hair, breathing in the scent of the hunters cheap shampoo and something else. Something that pretty much had to be the typical smell of the crying man. „I'll watch over you." It broke the hunters heart to see … to feel the distraction of him and to partially know where it came from. „I promise I'll take care of you." Dean tightened his embrace and closed his eyes. For the first time in a long time he wanted to cry. Wanted to leave it all out. But he wouldn't. He was a damn hunter and he had to be strong. Besides, his father had taught him that Winchesters didn't cry. And he had to be strong. - For Sam if not for himself. „These bastards won't get you again."

The hunter felt as the young man in his grip shifted a bit and started to lower his legs. Long legs sank down and two long arms wrapped around Deans ribcage, fingers tangling into the fabric of his shirt on his back and a wet face got buried in his shoulder. Dean buried the fingers of one of his hands in Sam's sweat soaked hair and let out a shuddering breath of empathy.

„You're cold.", Dean mentioned softly, as he brushed gently down over his neck and up again. … _and I'm gettin' cold_. „How long have you been sitting on the tiles?"

The hunter was used to turn off the heater over night. Now he thought about over thinking his habits.

He didn't know how long they sat-kneeled-squat there. And he wouldn't have mind if there wouldn't have been the damn cold tiles and Dean wearing just his boxers and a tee.

Sam had calmed down a little bit, but was still crying. Dean wondered how a dehydrated man was able to cry that much. Though, first things first. „C'mon Sam. - We'll get you all warmed up again."

Dean withdrew from the loosening grip and stood up, stretching a little bit and then helped Sam on his knees and feet to guide him to his the king-size bed with a super-soft mattress and _memory foam_. On their way past the couch the hunter picked up Sams pillow and tossed it on the bed, as the younger man froze and wouldn't move any further.

„ _No, please._ ", he whispered barely hearable.

„Hey, look at me.", Dean caught the younger male's gaze. „The damn couch is too short for you. - No wonder you've nightmares.", he obviously tried to joke … but it actually was a bad joke and he knew it. The hunter knew of what kind the mans dreams had to be, he just didn't want to imagine. And he didn't want Sam to remember. „So … you stay on your side of the bed, and I'll stay on my side of the bed. - Deal?"

Sam sniffed and nodded, rubbing with shaky hands the last tears from his eyes.

„Good." Dean smiled happily and led him to the other side.

The young man crawled on the giant bed and settled on the very edge of it. Dean stood beside him, watching him curling up, as he pulled the sheets and the blanket over the young man, just letting his head lurk out of it. „Try and get some more sleep. - I'll be right next to you, if you need somethin'."

The hunter waited a long moment for a respond. As nothing came he sighed and returned to his own side of the bed and crawled under the sheets. Laying on his right flank, his back towards Sam, trying to figure out how he could possibly help him. Thinking and planning and over thinking until he finally fell asleep again.

* * *

The morning came and the late winter-sun illuminated the spare appartement in cool colors, as the hunter found himself in the middle of the bed, his arms wrapped protectively around a pillow. No, not a pillow. - _Sam_.

He shifted and let the comfortable warmth of the other body soak into his skin. The hunter felt Sam shift and purr comfortably, pulling Deans arms tighter around his middle, pressing his back into the hunters front. Dean didn't dare to move, not even breath for a couple of moments.

It was so warm and safe. So comfortable and soft. Sam wanted to stay right there. Then he noticed that there was someone else. Strong arms wrapped around his middle and fingers tangled in his, holding him tight. The younger male's eyes snapped open and his breathing increased as he tried to remember what had happened and how he got into the hunters bed. How he could possibly end up in his arms, under the same sheets.

That was when he started to struggle, tried to break free and get away, but the arms held him close – and so tight.

„It's alright, Sam." He heard a gentle voice whispering into his ear. „It's alright. I won't hurt you. Nothin' happened. You're okay."

Dean held him closer, holding him tighter and whispered. Whispered soft and gentle things, tried to sooth him. Until the man in his arms was too exhausted to struggle and fight anymore and finally gave in. Sam panted, tears running down his face, decided to just let happen whatever would come.

As the body in Deans arms gave in, he eased his grip and gave Sam some space, while he rubbed circles around his navel, gentle and soft, bracing his other hand on Sams chest.

„You see?", Dean asked, his voice husky. „Everything's alright. - I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise. I'd never do, kiddo."

„Please don't. - I can't.", Sam said between desperate sobs.

Dean hushed him. „I won't." He turned Sam around in his arms and buried his fingers in soft bangs of hair as the younger man slung his long arms around him. He clung to the hunter as tight as his spare powers allowed, burying his face in the older man's chest. „You're save, Sam.", he whispered gently. „You're save."

Sam exhaled a long shaky breath, as Dean pulled the sheets over both of them. „I'm gonna make us some breakfast, hu?"

The younger man just snuggled closer, taking all the warmth and comfort he'd get. Dean smiled and brushed in light circles over the male's back. „Okay. - ten more minutes."

It had been barely two minutes of peace until the hunters phone on the nightstand started to vibrate and ring. He reached for it and finally managed to pick up after the fifth try. Since the dive - two weeks ago – into the Devils Lake his phone wasn't the same again ...

„Yeah?", Dean asked, then he listened to the old grumpy dude on the other end of the line. Deans forehead furrowed and he looked at Sam pensively. „Yeah, but what if he never got missed? - Or was declared as dead?", the hunter asked low, not to wake him.

Silence on the other line, then Bobby called for Caleb and said something Dean wasn't able to understand.

As they had ended their phone call, Dean put it aside and petted the young mans back. „There was no Sam on the list, kiddo." The hunter laid his index-finger on Sam's chin and guided it up so he was able to face him. „Why did you choose „Sam"?"

Sam blinked and big watery hazel-eyes stared at the older male. „I remembered."

„What did you remember?" He asked warily.

„A blonde woman with blue eyes and long hair. - She called for me. She yelled this name.", Sam answered. „And … i always imagined … imagnined that she's my mom. - My _real_ mom."

„Something else?" Dean brushed gently over Sams cheek, wiping away the tears. The younger man shook his head. „Do you think you would recognize her?" He shook his head again. _No_.

After a while of holding back, there was no way Dean would've been able to hold his already overfilled bladder. So he got up and left Sam dozing on the bed, while he visited the bathroom and went into the kitchen to find something to eat. Something else than the leftovers from yesterday night. It's been three weeks since he had been in the appartement the last time. And of course there was nothing eatable in there except beer and coke and pizza.

With a sigh he took the pizza from the table and put it on the cupboard where he cut each half in two and warmed them up in the microwave. As he turned around to get back to bed, to make sure that Sam would be eating something, he saw him sitting on the couch, as he watched every move of the hunter.

* * *

They spent most of the morning on the couch, with the TV playing, watching the science channel. Not something Dean was into, but it was the best non-violent stuff he had found. He had figured that anything else wouldn't have been that good for Sam, since he didn't know if he'd understand what he would see. So the younger male sat beside him, curled up and leaning against Dean, staring at the whales on the TV and listening to Deans heartbeat at the same time.

As much as the hunter hated it. He had to leave and make a run for errands. And as bad as he wanted to take Sam with him, he couldn't. The man made it barely into the bathroom and back again, so there was no way to spend hours in a shopping mall, surrounded by other people and possibly hunters. Besides Sam was in no shape to face other people – and in this case _humans_.

So the hunter explained the remote control to Sam and put two cokes on the coffee table and a chocolate bar – wich he had found in one of the shelves. Dean demanded that he had to empty the cokes until he was back.

Then he left with a lump in his throat and a bad feeling in his gut.

* * *

Three damn long hours later the hunter slid the key into the lock of his appartement and flung the door open. He stepped in, placing two stuffed paper-bags beside the door and turned around to grab four other giant shopping bags to get them inside.

With a relieved sigh he slammed the door shut behind him and looked around. Searching with his gaze for Sam. But he was nowhere to be seen.

Panic gripped the hunters heart and let it speed up. „Sam!?", he called out, deep worry carrying his voice.

There was no way he could've vanished. He had secured the windows and the door was locked. „Where the hell are you", he muttered to himself, rounding the couch, as his look fell on the emptied cokes on the table.

As he headed towards the „bedroom" he saw him. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, a black marker in his hand and focused on writing sigils and signs, words in a foreign language and sketches on the wall on the opposite side of the window.

Dean stood there for a while, taking in the situation, not wanting to interrupt the young man in whatever he was doing there.

The older man narrowed carefully and squat down beside Sam, who carried on to write something, Dean knew that had to be latin.

„The spell.", Sam said finally and pointed at the written words before him, looking intensively into a pair of stunned emerald-green eyes. Then he pointed at the drawing of a crucified man.

„That's … that's ...", Dean stuttered. „Wow … you've done all that."

It was more or less a chaos of words and signs as far as Dean was able to tell. Though some of it looked familiar to him and maybe Bobby would know more about it.

Big wide eyes took the hunters features in. „Important.", Sam said quietly. „Very important for them. - But they didn't tell us."

Dean glanced at him and then on the wall again. „ … you memorized the spell.", it was more of a statement than a question.

Sam nodded and blinked, waiting.

„You've done good." Dean smiled reassuring, suppressing the need to throw his hands together and yell at the man because he had written on the damn wall. There was no way he'd be able to get the marker off again. He looked at Sam and reached out for him. „I got somethin' for you."

Sam took his hand, way less trembling or shaking than it had done hours before as he had left him. The hunter pulled him to his feet and guided the swaying man to the couch where he let him sit down.

Dean went to get two of the big shopping-bags and tossed them on the couch beside Sam, who eyed them curiously. Then he looked at Dean who sat down on the coffee table in front of him. „For you. - gotta try them if they fit." Deans eyes were bright shining, eager for Sam to unpack the things he had bought for him.

The young male reached for one of the bags and looked questioning at the older male as if he was asking for permission.

Dean nodded.

Sam took it and pulled out a pack of socks and then sneakers. The man's eyes lit up in anticipation and a small smile formed on his lips as his fingers ghosted over the dark brown leather, examining them eagerly.

Dean reached over and took the pack of socks, tearing the paper off and handing Sam a pair of them. He looked up and took them hesitantly, examining the soft woolen covers for his feet. Then he eyed the socks curiously and then at the hunter.

Dean chuckled. „Try them on.", he said and watched as the man bowed down and pulled the thick socks over his cool toes and feet. He moved his toes, unused to feel something covering them. Then he showed his left foot to Dean.

The hunter chuckled and smiled again. „Looks good." Then he pointed at the shoes in Sam's lab.

The young man eyed the sneakers for a moment, then put them on, spreading his toes inside them. And it felt good. So good. - His smile grew with every second.

„Go a few steps. Lets see if they pinch somewhere.", Dean suggested and stood up as Sam made a couple of steps, feeling the soft soles beneath him. He turned around and made his way back, smiling like a kid on christmas-day.

„Do they fit?", Dean asked.

Sam nodded furiously with bright eyes and fell to his knees in front of Dean, wrapping long arms around him and squeezing him so tight that the hunter had to catch his breath. He hugged him back, and stroke over the brown mop. „You like them?"

Sam nodded and tugged him closer.

„Awesome.", the hunter blew out and rubbed gently over the younger mans back and petted his shoulder. „So what do you say about we're gonna cook something, huu?" He cocked both eyebrows and grinned.

The young man looked up and watched him with big hazel-eyes before he nodded.

„Is there something you like to eat?", Dean asked and gave one of the paper bags to Sam, who held it so tight to his body – just not to lose something, not to let it fall – that he squeezed the eggs inside a little bit too tight and they found some broken ones as they unpacked them.

„ _Sorry_ …", Sam muttered and the corners of his lips sank down. Eyes immediately watering.

„No worries. - They're just eggs." The hunter said low and looked at the sludge-covered bag of butter and cheese and ham … and all the other stuff inside the bag.

The young male sniffed and unpacked the rest of the - now sticky - groceries.

The hunter glanced at him with furrowed eyebrows and laid a hand between his shoulder blades, feeling the bones of his spine thru the thick fabric and a slight trembling body. „It's okay. - Ain't a damage, Sam." Dean blinked at him. „We're gonna clean it all up and store it."

Sam just nodded and started to unpack the second bag while Dean rinsed the groceries in the sink.

„Thought about spaghetti and bolognese, hu?", he asked smiling.

„Yes, Sir.", he answered silently.

Dean blew out a deep breath. „Do you like noodles?"

„I don't know, Sir.", Sam answered after a few moments and looked at the hunter.

Well, at least he was talking. Though the _Sir_ hurt a little bit … Dean haven't thought that he seemed that old to him.

„I'd say you should try them then." … but the Sir offended him though. „And don't call me _Sir_. - I'm not that old, am I?" Dean grinned and cocked an eyebrow.

Sam smiled shyly and shook his head.

They cooked together Noodles and sauce bolognese. The hunter watched Sam as he cut the vegetables. And the young man didn't seem unfamiliar with knifes. Actually he seemed pretty experienced, but Dean didn't say anything about it. Maybe later, when both of them would know each other better. When they'd trust each other more. _When Sam trusted him more._

While Sam was watching over the sauce bolognese, Dean took pictures from the fresco in the bedroom and stared at it in a long time, as he sat on the edge of the bed. He had seen these damn sigils somewhere before. He just wasn't able to tell where ...

Later they ate together on the couch. Sam didn't even finish half his plate before he put it aside and stared back at the TV. Dean finished his too and then … then he was nearly bursting.

* * *

The hunter helped Sam to get into the bathroom, letting him do his business and waited in front of the shower curtain until he was finished, handing him fresh clothes and taking Sam's old once with him. When he emerged, Dean finished his own business, making his shower shorter as usual since he didn't want to leave Sam alone that long.

The younger male settled on the couch for the night, while Dean made his way to his bed. Sadly this night went down like the last one. The hunter woke - bolting up right in his bed - to desperate cries and pained moans. And like the night before he took Sam to his bed, settled him on the other side, tugged the sheets over him and went to his own. Crawling in and snuggling into his pillow, trying to ignore the silent sobs and hiccupped breaths. Trying to ignore them lasted for not even five minutes, then he was laying close to Sam, wrapping his strong arms around him, rocking him and whispering gentle words to him until he started to relax and turned around in his arms to snuggle into the hunters chest. Dean stroke him, brushed over his back and thru his hairs until the young man fell asleep beside him, before he allowed himself get pulled into the comfortable darkness of sleep.

* * *

Sam started to do better during the next couple of days. He seemed to get more comfortable in the appartement though. He even moved around without looking asking at the Winchester for permission. He was talking more, smiling shyly about some of Dean's jokes. Though the nights remained the same. None of them both got a lot of sleep at all. Both looked exhausted like hell and Sam's eating-issues didn't improve at all. He felt even more bony under Deans touch and the young man just wouldn't eat. At least not as much as his body would've needed.

Sam also continued with the drawings and scribbling. Instead of the wall he scrawled the things on dozens of papers. Each and everyone different and when Dean asked what this was, Sam just answered „ _Spells_.". Though, Dean had seen a lot of spells and other things in his lifetime as a hunter, but most of them just seemed odd and he wasn't sure if those sheets weren't just some crap.

That was why he decided that it was about time to go and visit Bobby and the others. Caleb and Jim wanted to stay at the Salvage with the old man and help with the case, since Bobby had declared that Sam was their new case. Much to Deans approval, since he wasn't sure how he should be able to get all of the research done while having an eye on Sam.

And since he figured that Bobby's place was one of the safest, and that the kid had to get out at some point, he decided to take him with to stay a day or two, showing Bobby the drawings. Trying to get him among other people – other people Dean knew he could trust. AND he decided to do it for himself too, since he was on the edge to suffer cabin fever.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


**Fall of Darkness**

**Chapter 6 ~ Possessed**

Dean brushed over Sams lower leg as the Impala's engine had died. „We're here, Sam.", he said and sniffed.

The younger male stirred and sat up in the passenger's seat, looking around warily. Then he shot a unsure glance at the hunter, his eyes turning black for a split second.

„No need to be nervous." Dean smiled reassuring. „They're all friends. - I told you."

Sam nodded hesitantly and sighed as he took the old house front of them in. He just wished he wouldn't have to go in there. That Dean would allow him to wait outside in the car. But the hunter had made clear that it was too cold for him to stay outside. That he wanted him to be in the house, to make contact with other people besides him. And Sam _obeyed_.

He followed the skilled hunter out of the car and up the porch, always staying behind him, always keeping his look down. - Like he wanted to hide. Wich was – by the way – completely impossible because of his hight.

Dean knocked at the door and gazed over his shoulder at Sam, taking a step back as he noticed that Sam had done the same. The hunter reached back and felt for Sam's hand. Squeezing it tight as the door opened and letting go of it again.

„Hey Dean." A bright smiling bearded man appeared behind the door. „Good to see you, Boy." He glanced at the taller man behind him. „Sam?", he asked welcoming and spread the door wider, so both of them could step in.

„Beer?", the older hunter asked and closed the door behind them again.

Dean nodded.

Bobby looked at the hunter's company and eyed him for a moment. „Beer?", he asked towards Sam, who had looked up for a split second.

„No – Thank you, Sir.", he replied quietly.

„Juice?", Dean asked towards Bobby, knowing that Sam wouldn't dare and say what he'd like.

Bobby nodded and looked at Dean and then at Sam once again before he turned around.

The younger hunter turned towards Sam and pulled the thick bonnet from his head. „He won't eat you. - It's okay.", he whispered gently. „Take off your jacket and sit down on the couch in the living room.", Dean pointed at the room behind the younger man. „I'll be there in a second."

Sam nodded and looked up for a moment to catch Dean's warm emerald-green eyes. The younger man's eyes flickered black once again. Though Dean seemed unimpressed, just smiled and nodded towards the other room.

The hunter went towards the kitchen, following the seasoned old man and leaned against the kitchen-counter while Bobby took two bears and a coke out of the fridge.

„He was drawing and writing some stuff.", Dean began and eyed the older man warily, while he talked. „Thought you could take a look at it?"

Bobby turned around, handing Dean a beer casually and nodded. „Sure. - You've any idea what it is?"

„Sam said it are spells.", he answered in thoughts. „I don't think that he knows anything else about it. - Besides it looks a lot more as a chaos of words and signs than anything profound."

The older hunter nodded thoughtfully and cocked an eyebrow as he looked towards the living room. „And the other thing?"

Dean sighed. „He's afraid. - He's … i don't know what he is, but he sure as hell isn't a demon."

The older hunter nodded again. „There ain't a lot of things out there with black eyes and able to kill demons that way i guess."

The younger male chuckled. „Think so too."

„Did you ask him what he is?" Bobby uncapped his beer and took a sip.

„Nah … i don't think he knows. - And if, he sure as hell won't tell me." Dean uncapped his own.

Bobby cocked both eyebrows. „You could make him ..."

He looked at the older hunter with a mix of confusion and rising anger. „I won't make him do anything."

The older man's face relaxed and a soft smile spread all over it. „That's my boy. - Think he could've killed us all sooner when he's able to give demons some hell."

„True.", Dean said silently, as Bobby turned towards the hall. „So … where do we stand?"

„At the beginning, Son." The old man answered after a while. „I didn't find anything. - Not even a hint about what he might could be. - At least not in my books. But I think, if the demons are that interested in the kid, he's important. SO i guess, it's better he's with you than anyone else i know."

Dean scuffed.

Silence again.

„What about you both stay for a few days? Looks like your little attachment over there ain't that social seasoned. - Might does him some good … and you too. - You look damn awful." Bobby smiled.

Dean chuckled. „That was what i wanted to ask for." He looked down. „Didn't get a whole lot of sleep lately." He glanced thru the doorway into the livingroom. Dean wasn't able to have a look at the couch from where he stood – and it made him a little bit uneasy.

„Sam doesn't look a lot better either." Bobby said and frowned.

„No shit Sherlock."

„No shit ...", the older and sighed deeply. „Might as well should get over there." He pointed towards the living-room, obviously sensing Dean's growing unrest.

Both of them went into the livingroom where Sam sat curled up on the couch, his head leaning against the backrest, his eyes closed. But Dean wouldn't let him drift off into sleep. „Sam.", he said softly, laying a hand on the younger male's shoulder.

Sams eyes snapped open in an instant and looked at Dean, then at the old bearded man and immediately lowered his gaze. „Sammy – look at me.", the younger hunter said gently and tipped his jaw up.

The young man lurked thru chestnut-brown bangs into shiny eyes, trying to hold back the blackness. He didn't want more than vanish. Flee. Sam didn't want to be among others, didn't want to be anywhere else than the appartement he already knew. It was okay to be with Dean. He already knew him a little bit, had learned that the hunter wasn't an immediate threat. At least not now. That he wouldn't hit him. He was something like a safe heaven in a world of sharks.

„Look. - That's Bobby.", the hunter said and nodded towards the man who stood beside him, challenging him to look up. And he did – for a split second he brushed the bearded man's gaze. Then he looked back at Dean. „He's a friend." He gave Bobby a sign to sit down on the table and he did, holding his beer and a bottle of coke in his hands.. „Do you remember him? - He was there, at the church."

Sam tried to remember. But it was all in a haze. So he shook his head. He didn't remember, just the bearded man's voice seemed familiar.

Bobby held the coke towards the younger man, who tensed visibly at the fast movement. „Take it boy. - You've to be thirsty, aren't you?"

Sam glanced at Dean, searching his face warily. Then – after he saw nothing that showed betrayal – he reached for the bottle with shaky hands and grabbed it. „Thank you, Sir.", he said and pulled the cold bottle into his lab, hiding it.

„Do you remember what happened at the church?", the bearded man asked, as it was no big deal.

„Not much.", he answered silently, trying to hide his distress.

Bobby blew out a deep breath. „You know why they took you there?"

Sam shook his head hesitantly. No he didn't. He honestly didn't. They hadn't told him.

„I'll go and get your rooms ready.", Bobby said after a long silence. There was no point in asking obviously.

Sams head snapped up. His expression filled with fear and rising panic - „ _rooms_ ". He shot a questioning glance at Dean who immediately sensed his confusion. Since Sam was with him, they lived together in one big room. Never separated. And since the nightmares wouldn't stop, Sam was allowed to sleep at the same place with him. First he had been afraid and on the edge but after a few nights it was the most usual thing to share a bed with the hunter. To be close to him and to snuggle into his chest. Falling asleep with the scent of metal, whiskey and gun-oil in his nose.

„Just one.", Dean corrected as Bobby rose from the table. „Just one room. - Please." He said firmly to the older man who nodded with a sigh.

„Figured.", he gave back with a warm smile.

After Bobby had left towards the hall, Sam inched closer towards Dean, still the cold coke jammed between his stomach and legs. The hunter laid his arm over the backrest and gave the younger man an inviting grin.

Usually he'd thrown a cocky comment, but not in this case. Not towards Sam. „Better?", he asked low as the male sat curled up on his side and cocked an eyebrow.

Sam nodded and gave something like a purr from him as respond.

As Bobby returned – half an hour later – the both of them sat still in nearly the same position. Deans head had lolled back and he seemed fast asleep. So did the younger man, his head resting in Dean's lab. The seasoned hunter just entered to cover both of them with a thick blanket.

As Caleb and Jim returned from their supply-run he smuggled them into the kitchen. Though they shot nosy glances into the living room as they passed and kept as silent as possible as they unpacked the groceries.

* * *

Four hours later the both of them were still sound asleep on the couch. Just their positions had changed. While Dean laid nearly spread out on the couch on his side, Sam laid half over his torso, his ear on the hunter chest and an arm slung around his middle. The older male had tangled the fingers of his left hand in Sam's shaggy hair, like he was trying to hold his head in position.

Though, the full bladder of the hunter screamed for release and woke him from disturbing dreams. He shifted a little bit, brushing with his fingertips over Sam's scalp, feeling soft locks tingling on the back of his hand. First the closeness to the young man had seemed weird to him. But now … now it was the most common thing on gods world. And to be honest: he would've missed something, if there wouldn't have been this warm body next to him, as he woke up.

* * *

_five days later …_

Sam had become used to the others around. Though he didn't look at them directly and just answered if he was asked. Only Dean savored the privilege to have the first look at his sketches and the words he wrote around them. Just Dean savoured the privilege to come closer to him than a yard without pulling back. Just Deans voice didn't make him flinch at his name. And just Dean was the one with whom he stood alone in a room for longer than fifteen minutes.

And Dean felt honored somehow. The young male had finally started to trust him more. And maybe it was just the hunters imagination … but somehow Sam opened more up to him. Sometimes, when they were alone, the young man curled up in his arms and pressing his head on his chest, he talked. He talked without being asked. He related little things he had lived thru with his demonic mother. Sam had to be not older than nine in these stories. And he just told him about the good times, never told him anything bad about it. - Sometimes Dean had the feeling that he didn't want to remember it, that he was trying to shove it away.

… And to be honest: The hunter hated the idea of Sam being with these bastards for that long. He hated them even more for doing whatever they had done to him – what they had made him do. He knew that there must've been something. Because Sam was sometimes cutting the topic and then he stopped before he had said anything relevant. Just that he was sorry about doing it. That he never wanted to do it. And that he had done so many bad things. So damn many bad things and that he wished he would be able to undo it.

… And Dean told him not to worry about the past. That it was over now and that he wouldn't have to do anything of it ever again. That there was no way he'd make him do anything. That he'd watch over him, protect him. And the hunter meant it. He truly did. Sam wasn't a monster anymore. He was so damn human that it sometimes hurt.

… And Sam believed him every single word he said. Despite the knowing that the hunter would return every word as soon as he would tell him what they made him do. As soon as Dean would know about this one special thing it'd all be over and he and the others would make him suffer for it.

Meanwhile Bobby kept researching. Jim kept researching, coming with new books every day wich should help them further. Finding out what ritual they used and what it had been meant for. Finding out what the tall male was and why they had crucified him and what it was about with his tattoo …

* * *

Dean sighed deeply and turned the beer around in his hand, as he shut the book in front of him and rubbed his eyes. He had taken Sam upstairs, and went down again as the younger man had fallen asleep finally.

At least Bobby had found a name for the ritual. It was something about souls and using them as something and a knight of hell shall rise of the depths of the pit. Probably to summon that son of a bitch, because that was what it looked like. They just weren't able to translate this one word. It wasn't latin, nor greek, nor any other dead or undead language they had checked so far. Not even google and other engines had even a suggestion for the word. _Damn_ _it_ , they didn't even know how to pronounce it correctly. Nor did they know how to read the foreign script in wich it was written in.

„I'm givin' up for today." Dean sighed and shook his head.

Bobby looked up from his book and eyed Dean for a long while before he said something. „No problem." He glanced at his watch. 10:45 pm. „It's late though. - Might as well you should go upstairs before he's starting to panic again."

The older hunter wasn't able to hide his exhaustion either. The nightly screaming-tirades of the young man wore them all out. The first time it had happened they had been all stuttered and NOT PREPARED, even though Dean had warned them.

„Yeah ..."; Dean hesitated. „Can i ask you something?"

Bobby nodded. „Depends." He grinned.

The younger hunter looked up and sighed heavily. „What are we gonna do if he's something dangerous?"

Bobby looked confused. He'd probably would've thought about a lot of possible questions, but not about something like this. He knew, he sensed that this was bugging Dean. Now more than ever since they had pulled Sam from the crucifix. He knew that it would get heavier for all of them with every single day to think that Sam could be something threatening and dangerous. Because besides his occasionally black eyes he seemed human. Felt human. Acted like a human. A human who've been tortured and abused for a damn long time. And to Bobby's regret he started to like the kid too. Though he would never admit that below his hard shell was a soft spot. And sometimes Sam hit it right there.

„I have no idea, Son. - If he's dangerous or somethin' … and this is some kind of trap … he's playin' his part damn well."

Dean's chuckle was filled with unsureness. „But Dad … Dad wouldn't have even thought about giving him a chance. - what if I'm wrong? What if i made the wrong choice?" He looked down at his hands.

„That's because you're not your dad, boy. - You're completely different as John was. - You've made the right choice. You ain't wrong. We aren't wrong." Bobby glared at the younger man and cocked an eyebrow.

Dean nodded and smiled shyly. „You don't think it's kinda weird? - Me and him … and the way we're to each other?" He looked up again and took the seasoned hunter's features in.

„Des it feel weird for ya?" he asked, eying him.

The younger male shook his head.

„Well then i see nothin' wrong about it." Bobby still smiled. His face nothing but underlining his words. „And now, we'll stop girling around." He looked into a pair of deep green emerald-eyes, so grateful for his reassuring words. Reassuring the younger man that he had done the right thing. And maybe … maybe Dean's life would mean more than just hunting for once.

„Time to get some shuteye then.", Dean whispered to himself, sunken in thoughts.

„Me too.", the old man approved yawning.

They parted then. Bobby headed towards his room and Dean went upstairs. Entering his and Sam's room quietly, sneaking into the bathroom and taking a quick shower. He put on a tee and fresh boxers before he crawled under the sheets, next to the curled up form under them. The hunter inched closer and wrapped his strong arms protectively around Sam, who instinctively inched backwards until he felt the comfortable warmth radiating from the hunter's body. He laid his hand on Dean's, pulling his arm tighter around him and moaned blissfully.

„Good night", Dean whispered and buried his nose in Sam's hair, inhaling his scent.

A happy sound came back as respond and the hunters lips curled up into a soft smile. „Sleep tight, Sammy."

A smooth purr left Sam's throat in respond, cradling his long fingers around the older male's lower arm. „Don't go.", me muttered silently, „Please don#t go."

Dean ran his fingers over Sam's forehead and brushed a lock of hair aside. „I won't go.", He felt Sam shivering under his touch and added another gentle brush along his jaw, triggering another one.

The hunter chuckled silently, deciding not to tease him anymore and let him fall back into sleep. Much to the younger man's disappointment. Though he left himself be carried away in Dean's warm embrace, feeling his slow breathes in his hair and on his scalp, while his in- and exhales matched to the hunter's.

* * *

The both men woke to a silent knock on their door. Sam looked up hesitantly, watching the hunter for any other reaction than a bugged flinch. Sam tabbed on his bicep – so gently it probably wouldn't have woken Dean, but it did. It did because it was Sam's touch. Dean groaned and smacked his lips. „What is it`?"

The hunter blinked an eye open and ran his fingers unconsciously thru Sam's hair, like he always did when he woke up.

The knock rang again, this time more urgent, more demanding.

„Yeah?", Dean called out.

Someone cleared his throat on the other side of the door. „Downstairs, now.", Bobby's voice rang thru.

The hunter sat up, immediately high alert and awake.

Sam stared at him confused, then to the door and back at the hunter, eying him warily. He recognized the suddenly concerned look on his face and the deep-green eyes darkened as Dean looked down on him. „Guess it's time to get up.", he muttered and stretched out with a low groan, as he rolled to his back. „Downstairs in fifteen!", he called back, his voice hoarse.

Then there were silent footfalls slowly fading away.

„You wanna stay?", Dean asked and brushed a hand over his face, like he tried to brush his sleepiness away. „You don't have to come with – catch some more sleep, hu?"

Sam shook his head. „Commin' with you.", he answered silently. „Can I?" Big eyes were glued to the hunter's pleadingly.

Dean smiled at him. „Sure you can." Then he sighed and ran his fingers thru Sam's strong, soft hair, tangling them in it and toying with the ends of his hair once more.

A small smile formed on the younger male's lips as he examined deep dimples around Dean's eyes and cheeks.

„Means we've to get up, hu?" Bright green eyes gazed at Sam.

He nodded and sniffed.

* * *

Exactly fifteen minutes later they were downstairs, smelling bacon, scrambled eggs and waffles, hearing voices from the kitchen. As they rounded the corner – Sam right beside Dean – everything went still and three pairs of eyes were gazing at the young man beside their friend. Three pairs of eyes who took Sam in, in a mix of fear, despair and something Dean wasn't able to take his finger at.

While Dean narrowed further, Sam fell back and stepped in the threshold. A giant lump started to form in his throat and something in his stomach twisted violently.

They were still staring.

Dean stopped and turned around as he recognized that Sam wasn't following him anymore. His light smile faded slowly as he looked back at Jim, Caleb and Bobby, taking in their features, covered in disappointment and some other emotions that mixed up into something that didn't look well.

„What is it?", he asked – now concerned and glanced back at Sam, whose gaze was glued to the ground now. „What is it?", he asked again, looking back at the three of them.

Bobby cleared his throat.

„Bobby?", Dean asked, feeling an uncomfortable feeling rising in the depths of his gut.

„Soultaker … he's a soultaker." Bobby muttered and drowned his gaze in the black coffee-mug in front of him. Then he looked up and eyed the young man suspiciously. „He's a soultaker, Dean."

The younger hunter inched back and glanced at Sam, then he looked back at the table where all three of his friends tried to avoid his looks.

„What the fuck is a soultaker?", Dean's voice high-pitched at the end.

„The word in the ritual we didn't know what it meant … - it means soultaker. - Sam's a soultaker.", Bobby cleared his throat again and nodded towards two empty chairs at the table.

Dean looked back over his shoulder once more, registering that the younger male was shaking, inching back a foot or two. Sam felt their looks on him, all over him. _And he felt so wrong. - Just so damn wrong._

„Am i bad?", Sam's head snapped up and his look darted between Dean and Bobby. His eyes big and already wet with tears. „Am i something bad?", he asked again, his voice shuddering under the realization that a soultaker could never mean something good.

„No. - Sammy. You're not bad.", Dean took a step towards him, but the young man took another step backwards. He reached with his hand for him, offering it. But Sam just stared at it in disbelieve. The hunter turned around and looked directly at Bobby in disbelieve. „He's not, ain't he?", he asked, his eyes pleading.

Bobby sighed and swallowed, shaking his head. „No … he isn't." He sounded hesitantly. „Of course not." He looked up. First at Sam then at Dean. „It just means … - that he could be dangerous. What sure as hell doesn't mean that he is. - it's just ..."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows after Bobby didn't continue. „What?"

„He'd be able to tear our souls out of our bodies in a split second … - and to be honest ...", Jim answered, obviously trying to choose the right words. „it's quiet frightening."

The hunter looked at Sam, taking another step towards him, noticing his eyes flickering from hazel into black and back again. This time he didn't move back, he just stayed, frozen, unable to even breathe.

Dean felt his heart break. They had made such progress in the past couple of days. He wouldn't let him slip thru his fingers, wouldn't let Sam locking himself away in his mind again. „It's all about the choices you make, Sam." Dean tried to smile but failed. Miserably. „You aren't bad. - You're just different."

Sam shook his head, chestnut-brown locks falling into his eyes. When it came to the choice he had made in the past he was definitely none of the good guys here. „No. - I'm a monster. They were right, I'm a monster. And no one's going to save a monster." He sobbed.

„That's not true, Sammy. - And you know that." Dean tried to reassure him.

Caleb cleared his throat, and Dean gave him a punishing look. „It's not true. - You're no monster." Dean made another step towards him and was now close enough to lay a hand on the younger man's shoulder. Sam let himself be pulled into a gentle hug. „You could've killed us a dozen times, but you didn't. - You're not a killer."

The hunter buried his hand in Sam's hair and closed his eyes, feeling him shiver and tremble.

Sam sobbed and sniffed and whimpered shaking his head over and over again.

„We're just a little bit overwhelmed and ..." Bobby was looking for words, „... and little bit concerned, you know?" He tried to smile and failed. „We've never heard about something like you. - Not even read about it in books so far … you gotta understand … we ..."

„.. we usually would hunt something like you.", Pastor Jim ended Bobby's sentence firmly. His eyes stern for a moment, but started to soften again. „But we won't. - We might be hunters, but we also know what's wrong or right." He smiled gently in the end. „Now come over and sit down and lets talk about all this in peace, OK?"

Sam swallowed a sob, while Dean tried to sooth him with gently back-rubbing. „You know it's okay. - You saved us with your abilities. - You know that?" Dean cocked both eyebrows and took a step back, his hands resting on Sam's shoulders, trying to catch his gaze.

There he stood. Something that was meant to be dangerous, cried his soul out because it didn't want to. Didn't want to be something. Didn't want to be what he was. And now that they had a name for what he was he felt even worse. He knew he had done bad things. Really bad things – but somehow … somehow he had wished that this was just because of the black-eyed monsters, and not because of himself alone. That this wasn't all him who was capable of doing these things.

No such luck.

Sam sucked in a deep breath and made a step backwards,glaring form the corner of his eyes upstairs and then to the front door. - He still had a choice. He could go upstairs and hide under the blankets, or he'd run. Run as fast as and far as he was able to. So no one would get hurt. Just him maybe. But though … he honestly didn't care about being hurt. And deep down he wished this all had ended int he church. That Dean would've just ended him, for the thing he was.

Demons would hunt him, he know that. And some day they'd find him, find him and punish him. Would track him down and lock him away … again. Just to be something for the rest of his life he didn't want to be. Just to be owned by some hell-bound soul … be owned by a demon who'd come to him. Once in the shapes of a guy, once in those of a woman … all sorts of forms … and he wouldn't be able to do this again. He didn't want to see these men die because of him. He couldn't. Not again.

Dean watched him suspiciously. He literally saw the wheels in Sam's brain running.

A second later his gaze went up, streight into Dean's darkened green eyes, his look determined. Panic made his heart race, his breath erratic. Another second later Sam took off and was with three long strides in front of the front-door, slamming it open and … nearly bumped into a man in his mid-fourties. A couple of inches smaller as Sam was, with big grey eyes. The man stared at the younger male and the smile he had worn before slowly faded. His eyes widened and the expression on his face turned into shock. From shock into realization and from realization within a second into pure anger and rage.

„You.", he growled, and started to fumble on the back of his belt for something.

But before the man was able to get whatever he was looking for, Sam shoved him aside and started into a sprint across the yard.

„Sam!", Dean called out and just saw as the man in the door took off to follow him with a drawn knife.

The Winchester cursed. He didn't lose a single moment and raced over the threshold, down the porch, taking two steps at once, and ran. He drew his Baretta as he saw the older man disappear behind a block of car-wrecks and slowed down, taking deep even breaths to listen and make out any noises. Dean pressed his back against the wrecks, lifting the Baretty and took the safety off.

* * *

Now it wasn't just to disappear. Now it was about life. Sam had to run or this guy would kill him – as sure as hell. And he ran, he ran as fast as he was able to. Though he was in no condition to hold his speed. And he lost. The guy caught up after he had rounded the corner of car-wrecks and tackled him, taking him to the ground, with his face forward into the sharp cold gravel.

„You bastard.", the man hissed, pressing his hand to Sam's neck and held him down. Not caring that it would hurt the man below him. Not caring that he'd supressed him from inhaling much needed oxygen.

Sam gasped.

„You damn freak." The guy held the knifes spike to his throat, burying it into the soft skin. Without drawing blood. „You found other fools? - Other's you can betray and kill? Damn freaking _demon-spawn._ "

The young male swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment. „I let you live.", Sam gave back silently. „I let you life so you could warn others." Sam swallowed a sob, his fingers digging into the icy gravel below him. „I'm _sorry_. I'm so sorry … i didn't want to hurt him. I didn't want to. Please believe me."

„Don't _you_ _dare_ and even talk to me. - I know what you've done. I know what you'll do." The man swallowed hard, the warm exhale vaporizing in the cold air. „I'm going to make you pay. Make you pay for all of it. - You listen?"

* * *

Dean listened closely. His eyebrows furrowed. The finger around the trigger eased and tightened again. A mixed feeling of disbelieve, anger and panic gripped him tight.

* * *

„Go ahead.", Sam said perfectly calm. „Save me from killing others. Save them."

The guy didn't hesitate. He lifted the knife, targeting Sam's spinal cord. Right where he'd do the most damage, right where Sam would've no chance to survive.

„ **STOP**." Dean Winchester's voice echoed across the yard, letting the guy freeze right in place. „You stab him, you're dead before you hit the ground. - Disarm."

The grey-eyed man looked up, his forehead furrowed, then he chuckled in disbelieve. „Don't say you're protecting this little shit?", his voice hitched in the end.

Dean targeted the guy with the barrel of his gun and moved slowly closer. „Get off of him."

Sam's eyes were glued to his savior.

„He's a _monster_.", the man hissed, laying the blade on the man's throat below him. „He murdered dozens of us. - He's a _killer_. He's an ice-cold killer."

Sam flinched, pressing his eyes shut and opened them again.

Dean swallowed and dared to glance at Sam for a split second. Enough to realize that the young man was shivering, but perfectly calm. No sobbing, no crying … nothing like this.

„I'd suggest we talk about all that inside, hu?", Dean suggested and rose both eyebrows questioning, his gun still pointing at the man's skull.

The man shook his head, pressing the blade into Sam's soft skin until it drew blood. „No. - I'm not going to let it live. - It's _dangerous_ , damn it!"

Dean nodded. „He might is. - He might's not." Again a short glance at Sam. „But he's _mine_. - And _mine_ alone. Don't piss me off.", He crawled in a low guttural voice. „Get off of my pet, or I'll put a bullet in ya' brain, lad." Dean Winchester's eyes blazed dangerously, as he saw Sam's blood welling over the blade. His voice stable and firm, showing thousand percent of determination.

It hurt. It hurt so much to call Sam that. But he had to. The guy knew that he wasn't human, that he was something _different_. So he didn't have much of a choice. Monsters and Creatures were outlaws. So were Hunters. When they got killed no one asked a whole lot of questions about the circumstances. But when it came to hunter's pets … depeneded on how worthy they were … hunters wouldn't back off easily. Most of them they caught themselves, tamed them, enslaved them and trained them to whatever they wanted them to be. Hunters were allowed to make the ones pay for damaging or even killing their pets. Without having to fear judgement.

Bobby and Jim approached with loaded shotguns in their hands. One behind Dean and Bobby came from the other direction, so he was facing his younger friend.

The guy stared at Dean, then swallowed. Slowly he lifted the knife and held it up in surrender as Dean narrowed and the man rose and let go of his prey. The young hunter's gun still targeted the other man, not letting his eyes go.

„Sam?", Dean asked firmly. „You okay?" Nothing emotional left in his voice that would've shown how much he really cared.

The young man blew out a breath and got back on his feet awkwardly, brushing over an angry red abrasive burn on his left cheek, wich drawn a few droplets of blood. His gaze fell to the ground where he just laid, waiting for a blow, punch or yell. Waiting for something never came.

The guy tugged his knife back into a retainer on the back of his belt and rose his hands again, showing empty palms in surrender, while Dean still aimed at him with his Baretta.

„You OK?", He asked again, eying the young male for a moment.

No respond.

„Thomas?", Bobby's forehead and eyebrows furrowed. „What the hell are you doing here?"

The man stared at Bobby in disbelieve, then huffed. „Looks like I'm saving your asses, Idiot."

„Looks like you've the wrong guy there.", Bobby nodded towards Sam, without letting Thomas out under his watch.

„I don't know what he told you guys.", the mid-fourty-year-old man gave back. „But he ain't that innocent as he looks like."

„I don't think that's the right place to discuss." The hunter's yaw tensed, biting the inner area of his lip. „Back to the house.", Dean ordered, never letting the guy out of his watch.

While pastor Jim took the lead back, Bobby followed with sunken shotgun right behind the man called Thomas. A couple of feet behind Dean and Sam followed closely. The younger hunter threw a couple of worried glances at Sam, who felt every single one of it.

Back in the house they settled int he livingroom. Bobby on the recliner, Jim sat down beside Thomas on the Couch, Sam sat down in a dark brown leather chair where Dean had motioned him to sit down and the young hunter took a seat on the small table beside the chair, his gun still in his hands, snapping the safety on audibly.

Bobby cleared his throat, all eyes on the foreigner just Bobby seemed to know.

„You guys honestly are protecting a monster?", The man finally asked with words soaked in disgust, his gaze falling on the young male.

Sam wanted nothing more than just vanish – once again. When this conversation was done, they sure as hell wouldn't try and want to be with him anymore. They'd not even give a damn about him. If he wasn't that lucky to be killed he'd sure as hell would get locked away or worse. He told them too much, showed them too much. These men surely thought he'd know more. They'd torture him, they'd do things to him.

So many times he had been so damn close to death and he never got it granted. Never.

Sam's eyes snapped into black-motion for a couple of seconds, unable to hide them completely behind his hair.

„Don't you wanna tell them what you did to my friends? - What you did to other hunters?", Thomas' look went cold. „Don't you wanna tell them how many hunters you've _killed_ already?"

Sam's head fell deeper, his look burning holes into the carpet under his feet. Then he looked up, eyes red rimmed from the tears he had shed. He looked at Bobby and Jim – no clue where Caleb was. Then his gaze fell on Dean who gave him a unimotional look, eying him from tip to toe. The younger man's eyes blinked to focus back on Thomas, just a couple of yards away from him.

„I am sorry about your friends.", Sam whispered barely hearable.

The man threw his fist on the coffee table in front of the couch and bowed forward.

Sam flinched violently and his hands started to tremble, so did his long bony legs and finally his whole body.

„ **Sorry**? _Sorry_ doesn't cut it!", he yelled, all the rage and grief about the loss of his friends carried in his voice. „ _Sorry_ doesn't give them their lives back! _Sorry_ doesn't make it undone, you damn **freak**!"

Bobby, Jim and Dean shared shocked looks.

„Slow down. - No one calls anyone a _freak_ here.", Dean tried to hold his voice under control despite his welling emotions to just grasp the guy and break his nose. „ _Sam_?" He looked down beside him, at the shaking man.

Thomas sank back and shook his head in disbelieve, taking a deep inhale. „You might think i don't remember you. But I'll be damned. - I won't forget the visage of yours ever. No matter how many years have passed. - I'm never going to forget _that_. Ever."

Sam looked up. His eyes flickered black again and the man opposite of him tensed for a second.

„ _I didn't want to_.", Sam muttered. „I had no other choice."

„You had what? - No other choice?", Thomas yelled again, his head already red as a tomato. „They trusted you, damn it. - _Nathan_ trusted you!" Thomas panted and shook his head, tear welling up in his eyes.

Dean and Bobby swallowed, sharing looks. Dean opened his mouth but nothing came out. He was too surprised, to … whatever this was.

„Tell them! Tell them how you _killed_ him and the others!", Thomas yelled demanding.

Then there was silence.

„Sam?", Dean's voice croaked. „Is it true?" Something in the hunters look showed Sam the deep disappointment and sadness about what he just had heard.

„Sure it is!", Thomas cried out. „He betrayed Nathan." He looked at Dean. „Didn't you?" He looked back at Sam. „Your little precious pet let Nathan fuck him. Didn't you? Nathan fucked you, didn't he?!" He threw daggers at the young man with his looks, whose shoulders rose and fell faster with every word that came over Thomas' lips. „He was looking out for ya' and you _betrayed_ him! You let them in! You betrayed all of us. - And Nathan the most. He'd died for ya' and you killed him. YOU KILLED HIM!"

Sam flinched at the last couple of words, but looked up with wet hazel-eyes, swallowing a sob. He didn't look anywhere but at Thomas. „Nathan NEVER laid a hand on me. Nor did i lay a hand on him." Sam sniffed, unable to breath for a moment. „He said i'm the son he never had. He'd never touched me. NEVER." Then he looked down again. „But you're right with one thing, Thomas. - I _betrayed_ him. I betrayed _you_. I betrayed _all of them_. I **killed** all of them. _I'm a murderer_."

Jim, Bobby and Dean swallowed in union. Dean stared at Sam in disbelieve, wanted to lay a hand on Sam's shoulder to sooth him … but how could he? Now that he knew? The hunter's face went pale, his hands started to tremble.

Bobby cleared his throat and rose his hand to stop Thomas from yelling around. Then he looked at Sam. „Look at me, Boy.", Bobby said calmly.

He did.

The old hunter took the young mans pleading orbs in and saw all the sorrow and pain mirroring in them. All the despair, all the knowing about what he had done … or not. „Tell me HOW you did it. - I wanna know HOW you killed Nathan and the others."

Sam swallowed a sob. „You have to know. - They … they used us as bait. Demons were used to use us as bait. They laid trails for hunters. Let them rescue us … my job was to be me, just me. Letting them think that I was abused or something and … when they took me with them … - i mean … other hunters mostly didn't care. They let the bait die or killed them, sensing that it was a trap, never thinking about trying to rescue them. - But when they took me with them … Nathan cared about me. He … he tried to …." Sam's voice broke. „And … I"

„You _betrayed_ him.", Thomas hissed. He looked up at Dean, who sat tense at the table and looked at the foreign hunter. „They had left him there. - A kid. Not more as fifteen years old. - They had left him there to rot – we thought. … When we cut him loose and got him out of the cage … he was barely alive. No one of us but Nathan thought he's going to survive. No one of us. - I thought it'd be better to release him from his misery. - But Nathan wouldn't. So we took him with us to the cabin – there were six of us. We holed up there. Wanted to wait and try to figure out what this all had been for." Thomas orbs dilated and a dismissive grimace formed on his face. „We just wanted to crash the nest. And all we found was … was THIS." He eyed Sam. „After a while when he did better, he just chanted and talked crazy latin shit. - Nonsense, drew stupid sigils on the walls and stuff."

„Spells.", Sam corrected him silently, and all eyes went to him for a split second.

„Yeah .. .spells. - To draw the demons to us. - To tell them where we were."

„No, that's not true .. I'd never done that. _Never_.", Sam muttered silently, tears falling down on his wringing hands. „I liked you guys. I liked _Nathan_."

„YU DID.", Thomas hisses, his voice raw from grief and pain over the loss. „It was in the middle of the night, when they came. - Sure ..." He looked at Dean, then at Sam. „He played his role well. He punched us free, got us all out there. A boy with not even fifteen years saved a bunch of old men." He shook his head - chuckling. „We should've known. - It was all fake."

Sam sobbed and looked up. Even more tears running down his cheeks. „It wasn't. - It wasn't fake. - I wanted to save you all. I wanted to get away, i wanted to flee. I didn't knew … I just wanted to be with Nathan." only Nathan, always Nathan. The man who had saved him. The man who had became something like a caring father in less than a month.

„You didn't knew they'd stop us?" Thomas shook his head in disbelieve. „C'mon. You knew exactly what they had planned ..."

Sam's cries hiccupped. And wiped the tears from his cheeks. „I didn't. I _swear_ i didn't." His voice nothing more as a faint whisper anymore.

Thomas looked up, searching the looks of the other hunters surrounding him. „We splitted up – except me, James and Nathan and that _bastard_. We thought it's saver. But it wasn't. They found one after another of us. One by one got killed. Until there were just me and Nathan left. - I begged Nathan to let go of him. Get rid of him." He nodded towards Sam. „And then … then they came and he killed James. They gutted Nathan ..."

Sam shuddered, he remembered too exactly what had happened past there. He remembered everything. How they threatened him to kill James and save Nathan. And he did it. It just took a little bit of concentration to blow James lights out. And then … they didn't make what they'd promised. They didn't let Nathan go. They tortured him in front of his eyes. They gutted him, they left him there, bleeding on the floor, asking if there was anyone else left. If there was any other hunter. And Sam said NO. He had said NO. Because he didn't wanted to let Thomas die too. He wanted someone to tell others. He wanted someone to spread the information about demons using kids as some kind of bait.

Young Sam didn't even dare to look at the closet behind them. He didn't dare to look anywhere but Nathan's dying eyes. And he said NO. There was no one else around. No one who knew. And they took Sam with them, leaving Nathan behind, leaving Thomas behind. And that was when Sam decided that he wouldn't ever again try to flee gain. He'd rather die, end himself before he'd put anyone else in danger again. After that … after all that the demons didn't use him anymore for jobs like this … he used him for much worse …

„How did it came that you're still alive then?" Dean's voice was hoarse, not daring to look at Sam. Not daring to let pity flood him and to show any kind of sympathy for the young man beside him.

„I hid.", Thomas' voice shuddered. „No one knew where i was."

Dean glanced at Sam.

There was silence for a long time. Thoughts and emotions cursing thru the hunters heads, trying to figure out what to do, what had happened. What was the truth … but neither of them was able to sort out what they just heard and what they felt.

And Sam. Sam just sat there … sat there, while he could've killed them in an instant and flee.

Dean didn't know what to think. He felt betrayed somehow. Maybe because Sam hadn't told him. Maybe because he knew something must have had happened and he just didn't want to figure it out. Suddenly he felt disgusted about himself. And that Sam didn't say a single word against it made him feel even worse. He had started to trust the young … THING. And now? Now he heard that he had killed. KILLED. He was a murderer nonetheless – no matter among wich circumstances. Sam had murdered humans. And Dean had murdered monsters.

No hunter would've mercy with him, so was Dean supposed to have no mercy. But could he? How could he treat the younger man like a murderer when he'd never seen him kill. When he had never seen him do something bad, something that hurt others except these demons. How was he supposed to handle this situation? How was he supposed to make the right choices?

The hunters talked to each other than, talked about Sam, about what had happened. The voices grew louder and Sam didn't know. Didn't understand, didn't want to understand what they were saying, yelling. What they were discussing about. He just felt their occasionally looks on him. And he just sat there. Waiting … waiting for what would happen next.

Then there was a loud bang of a slammed open door. Shattering glass and something SOMEONE tore at Sam's shirt.

Dean Winchester stood up, the table on whom he sat squeaked over the wooden floor as he pushed it back a few inches, tearing Sam out of his thoughts, of his save place.

Then the young male felt a strong hand wrap around his right bicep, pulling him to his feet and he looked up. A pair of relentless deep green eyes looked at him, filled with anger, rage … and was that fear?

Dean tightened his grip as Sam didn't follow his verbal orders. He yelled again on him, but Sam didn't understand. Didn't want to understand. Then the hunter pulled him with him. Sam hit his leg on a small table, nearly stumbled. But the hand on his bicep saved him from falling, pulling him further, out of the living room into the hall and to a door. They went down the stairs behind it and suddenly they stood in front of a heavy iron door. The hunter pulled a dead-bolt back and pulled it open.

Sam saw nothing but blackness and the shadows of a devil's trap on the floor. Dean whispered something into his ear, but Sam didn't want to know. Didn't dare to hear the words. He just stared at the older man, eyes filled with horror and pure fear.

Then he got shoved inside and the heavy door locked in front of him.

Sam sank to the cold ground, pulling his legs towards his chest and wrapped his long arms around them, shaking. Hoping that it'd be over soon.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 7 ~ Run **

Dean shoved the heavy iron door close and pushed the dead bolt into the lag. Hoping, praying that it wouldn't ruin everything they had reached so far. Though … Sam had seemed completely out of it, like he wasn't aware of what was going on. Sam's eyes, filled with fear and horror, as he shoved him inside. _Locked him inside ..._

The hunter brushed over the heavy, cold metal with his palm and wiped the blood from his split lip, hearing the rumbling above. He couldn't think about Sam right now. He had to _focus_. Focus on what was going on upstairs. They should've been prepared. Should've known that something would come for them. You didn't take something from a demon without paying for it. And obviously someone of them was pissed. Pretty pissed for interrupting a ritual and taking their lamb.

Though Dean didn't care right now. He didn't ever cared about pleasing or pissing people off. For sure not demons either.

Thomas might've said the truth … and Sam didn't deny any of it. - But that didn't mean that he was _bad_. That didn't mean that the young man behind the door was _evil_. All of them were forced to do something they didn't want to at some point. Might not in the same way as Sam had done, but though enough to be carrying a heavy guilt inside of themselves. Dean didn't blame him to try andsurvive. He didn't blame Sam for being what he was. He haven't chosen all of this. And Sam had probably been too young, too afraid to understand some of the things he had done back there.

And Dean Winchester was damn sure that his friends would think the same way about it. At least he hoped so. And Thomas? Well … Thomas was another story. He'd never be able to convince him that Sam might've killed people … hunters ... and that he had to forgive him. But the hunter knew Thomas wouldn't _want_ _to_ look at Sam differently.  
Thomas had made his point clear. He wouldn't leave until he'd have the chance to make it up to that _THING_. Though if they'd kicked him out. He was a human being and not to be held by demon-traps and holy water. If he hardly tried, he would've succeed some day.

* * *

Dean drew his demon-killing-knife and stared at the stairs. „No one pisses off a Winchester, bitches.", he growled low, his nostrils flared as Dean was already on his way upstairs.  
He shouldn't have been surprised, as Caleb pushed thru the front door – _black-eyed_. The Anti-possession-tattoo torn apart on his back, possessed by a raged demon. Cracking Bobby's devils traps and other wardings with a simple snap of his fingers.

The hunter found his friends fighting. Thomas spread out - _dead_ \- on the floor. One less problem to care about. Though he wasn't sure what was more concerning. A raged human or a possessive demon. Bobby was held in a death grip of one of those hell-bound monsters and Pastor Jim was fighting off a blonde woman with stilettos, while Demon-Caleb searched thru Bobby's desk in front of the fire-place.

Dean Winchester stood there in the doorway, his legs spread and a stable stand on his feet, starting an exorcism spell.

Demon-Caleb spread his head out and flanged Dean backwards into the kitchen. The hunter gasped and inhaled deeply. A searing pain burst thru his ribcage as he hit the counter and crumbled to the ground. Before he was able to get back on his feet, Caleb was standing directly in front of him, extending his arm and hand, holding the hunter down with unseen forces.

„Where's the boy?", The demon hissed impatiently.

„Not here." Dean grinned, licking his lower split lip unconsciously.

The Demon tightened his invisible grip around Dean's throat and growled, this time more firmly: „Where's he?"

Dean just gasped and shrugged casually. „Go to hell."

„Been there, ain't my thing." He tilted his head to the side and rose both eyebrows. „I'd make you a deal. You tell me where the boy is and I'd let you go … including this little nice meatsuit of mine." A lascivious smile spread over the demon's face.

„Why do you want him?", Dean asked, struggling for much-needed oxygen.

„Because he belongs to someone else. - And my boss doesn't like it, when _his pets_ run away … **or get taken**." The black-eyed monster*s grin widened. „At least not his _favorites_."

Dean didn't knew if his sudden rising nausea was from the lack of oxygen or disgust he felt for the demon's boss. „Well then let your boss know that he won't get Sam." Dean glared at him, his eyes glistening triumphantly.

The demon chuckled and let out a long drawn sigh, tilting his head back in frustration. „We'll see about this." He looked back down at Dean and pursed his lips. „I'm gonna make you, hunter. - He ain't worth it." His invisible grip around the hunter's throat lessened.

Dean panted, taking a deep breath. „If he's enough worth for a bunch of demons to come for him. He sure as hell's enough worth to be protected." Dean gave back grinning. „Now back off and leave before I'm killin' you."

Demon-Caleb grinned widely and gave a short lough. „As far as I'm concerned you're the one who's to my feet, Winchester. Wheezing and choking and soon pleading to die."

Dean chuckled and glanced past his possessed friend. „Bite me.", the hunter hissed. And that was when a bunch of holy water splashed on the demon's host's back and neck. It cried out and white mist, like he was burning, rose from the man's skin where the holy water had hit him, soaking into his clothes and letting him crumble to the floor. Agonizing cries left the demon's throat. Low and high-pitched at the same time, like he was suffering torments of hell.

„Adios Bitch.", Dean hissed and got to his feet, thanking Pastor Jim with a single glance. Dean restarted the exorcism spell as another black-eyed monster appeared in the threshold of the front door.

The demon's eyes went black for a split second, before he headed towards him. And Dean Winchester fought. He fought hard, while someone of the hunters continued with the spell where the other one had stopped. - The hunters would've had loved to keep one of those bastards to torture and get some solid informations. But they knew they had to get rid of them. They wouldn't be able to capture one of them for good in this chaos. Not without preparation ...  
So they did everything possible to exorcise them. And finally – black smoke steamed out of their mouths, rose above their heads, and disappeared in the cracks of the burst devil's trap above them. Lifeless bodies fell to the ground. So did Caleb's.

The hunters didn't lose time. They gathered their friend and spread him out on the big table of the dining room. Bobby and Dean turned him around, so he laid on his stomach, ripping the torn fabric apart and made space for the Pastor, who immediately ordered the other both around, telling them what he needed.

An hour later he was done with cleaning and sewing the gash up, wich reached from the upper side of Caleb's right shoulder-blade right thru his tattoo, down to his lower back.

„He's going to make it thru it. - It's gonna hurt a hell of a lot the upcoming days, but he'll be okay." Jim sighed, shaking his head in disbelieve. „Thought your house is secure?", he turned towards Bobby, giving him a glance.

„We'll get the traps fixed up.", Bobby replied gruffly, leaning against the wall and rubbed the back of his head. „... and I'll paint some sigils on the windows and doors. Might'll help a little bit to proof this place better."

Dean nodded and blinked at the doorway towards the basement.

Bobby followed the younger man's gaze. „Might as well get him back up, Son. - Guess he won't like it down there."

Dean swallowed hard. He knew it was a failure to lock him there. He knew it would've made it worse. But it was the safest place he was able to think of. Where they wouldn't have been able to reach for Sam. Even if they tried.

„You sure?", he looked first at Bobby and then at Jim. Unsure if they felt the same way about Sam after Thomas story, as he did.

Both looked at him questioning. „If you trust him enough to let him back upstairs I'm in. But maybe … after we heard Thomas' story ... if you don't, I suggest you leave him down there until you're sure about how to proceed with him." Jim's voice was somehow firmly and cool. But his eyes remained soft and filled with sorrow … and affection? „No one of us is gonna blame you either way. No matter how you decide."

Bobby shrugged and sighed. „He's just a boy. - Whatever he did … it didn't sound to me like he had much of a choice. Neither he seemed like he enjoyed it ..." He looked at Dean and frowned. „ _Do You_?"

Again – Bobby had cleared his thoughts with just a few words. Dean smiled slightly and nodded. „I'll get him upstairs.", he muttered and turned around on his heels.

Back down in the basement, Dean hesitated. He looked at the heavy iron-door and exhaled a long-drawn breath. Already knowing that he wouldn't like what he'd see. _And it hurt_. It hurt more than he ever would've admitted.

„Sammy?", he asked softly, his voice shaking. „I'm comin' in." Dean shoved the dead-bolt aside and opened the door slowly, lurking inside. He opened it wider. But there was nothing to make out but the dark corners and the shadow of the devil's trap in the middle of the room. He looked up at the vent who circled with small slightly squeaking noises. Then he stepped in and caught his breath.

„Sam?", he asked and his forehead furrowed. „You trust me, don't ya'?" Dean sniffed in a bunch of cool air and shivered.

How long had he let the kid downstairs? Two hours, three? Too damn long. - Though he wanted to make sure … _somehow_ … that no one would try and get into the house again to take Sam. Did he? Or was it this tiny part of him that still thought that the man was a monster?

„Sammy. - Come out. Please." Dean pulled a small torch out of his back-pocket and shone into the further rounded corners of the room, until he found him. Beside a small table, tightly pressed on the floor he was. _Sam_.

„Sam I'm …. I'm sorry Sam.", the hunter whispered. „Please. Come here." He narrowed slowly and squatted down before him, reaching for him. „Sammy. - I'm sorry .. for scaring the hell out of you." The hunter moved closer, reaching for the younger man's knee and laid his hand on it.

The young man flinched away from his touch, but Dean wouldn't back off.

„Sam?", he tried it again.

* * *

His chest hurt as hell. Small droplets of blood had soaked thru the thin fabric of his shirt, right where his tattoo remained. And his head was pounding. He felt _him._ Felt _Dean_ being close. He heard _him_. Heard his voice but didn't understand the words. It was all in a haze. He remembered Dean shoving him into a dark room, looking at him like he was the worst monster of all of them.

Sam pressed his palms over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. _Didn't want to see. Didn't wan't to hear._ He knew what would come. What always came. They knew it. Dean knew it _. They'd hate him. They'd punish him._

Dean had brought him there. Dean had locked him away. And he knew this would be his fate. This was where he belonged to. Where he wouldn't be able to hurt people anymore.

* * *

„Hey, it's ok.", Dean whispered, holding his voice calm and soft.

The hunter laid his hands gently on Sam's who were covering his ears. „It's okay, Sammy. - I won't hurt you. I promised." Dean rubbed his cold fingers and came a bit closer. „Look at me – _please_." The hunters voice nearly pleading.

Sam just tensed even more and seemed to ignore him.

Dean slid down beside him and put an arm around Sam's shoulders. „It's OK. It's OK, Sammy.", he whispered gently, pulling Sam closer, ignoring his whimpering and silent pleas that he was _sorry_ , and the begging _not to do this_. „I promised I won't hurt you.", Dean continued soothing. „I'd _never_ do."

The hunter buried his fingers in Sam's hair and pulled his head down to his chest, right above his heart, knowing it'd make the young man relax a little more. „See?"

_thump ... thump ... thump ..._

It took a long time until Sam gave in and relaxed a little bit against Dean's body.

„I'm sorry, Dean.", Sam whispered quietly. „I'd wish I could make it undone …. _all_ of it. But I can't. - I'm a murderer."

Dean heard Sam's voice shake on the verge of tears. „I know, Sammy." He closed his eyes. „I know.", burying his fingers deeper in the chestnut-brown hair, fingertips rubbing gentle circles into his scalp.

A silent hiccupped sob escaped the younger man's throat, nestling into Dean's shirt. The hunter licked over his lower lip, wetting the small gash and let Sam snuggle closer, letting him give in, and tightened his embrace.

The hunter knew how it felt. What it felt like being a monster. Being a murderer. He wasn't happy about the things he had done either. Some monsters surely deserved to die … others didn't. Some of _the things_ he had killed had never laid a hand on a human. At least they were pretending it ... Though he had stabbed them, shot them, burnt them. Just so he was able to make sure they would never do something.

Now that Sam was with him he _saw_. _Saw_ that some THINGS out there … no matter if human or not … didn't deserve to die. But they died, got killed thru his hands. Their blood on _his_ hands. Dean knew he wasn't holy. He knew he'd burn in hell for what he had done and might do in the future. But maybe, just maybe he was able to make it up a little bit. Try and save people. Try and distinguish what creatures deserved to be killed and wich not.

After a while Dean felt the coldness crawl into his flesh and bones and brushed over Sam's cool cheek, realizing that the younger man had been way longer down there. _On the cold floor. Probably freezing._ And he cursed himself that he didn't register that it was damn cold in Bobby's panic room. Because a part of him yelled still at him that Sam was a _thing_ , a _monster_ , a _creature_. And _creatures_ weren't supposed to be treated like humans. _Creatures_ weren't supposed to feel warm and cosy and comfortable. Because they weren't supposed to live. And he cursed that a part of him – even if it was a small one – that still dared to treat Sam like a creature and not like a human being.

„Sammy?", Dean asked silently. „Time to get upstairs, huh?"

„I can't. - I … just leave me here.", the younger man looked up hesitantly. „Leave me here and don't come back."

The hunters heart shattered. „Sam." He said admonishing, tipping his head up, so that the young man looked at him. „You're comin' with."

Sam shook his head. „No … don't. - Leave me here. - Please. _Please_ , leave me here and go. Run. Ya'll should run."

„We decided not to.", Dean gave him a weak smile, cracking his split lip open again. „I decided not to. - No matter what Thomas said. What he told us. - I think you had no other choice." He laid a hand on Sam's cheek and rubbed over it with his thumb.

Sam shook his head again. „You're supposed to get away from me. - Ya'll will _die_ if you don't. This man was right. I AM dangerous."

Dean let out a long drawn sigh. „He might was right at some point. - But as long as I know you. WE know you - You haven't murdered anyone. You could've killed us easily, don't you?" The hunter looked at him asking for a long time.

Then Sam nodded hesitantly and lowered his gaze.

„And _you didn't_. - Because you're not _bad_. You're no _monster_. You're not a _freak_.", Dean responded gently. „You're like me and the others. - except for your black flashing eyes of course … but hey …" Dean grinned cheeky. „We've all our flaws."

Sam chuckled and an amused small smile formed on his lips and he nestled even closer, rubbing his nose on the hunter's chest and sighed deeply.

„I'd tell ya. - I've this … this _birthmark_ right on my left buttcheek.", Dean added jokingly. „You should see it … it looks like a bunny laying on his back, dude ..."

Sam gave him a soft nudge in the stomach and chuckled again silently. „Stop it."

Dean was able to imagine how deep dimples spread around Sam's eyes and mouth. How he'd look like if he'd see him right in front of him.

„What?!" Dean asked and pulled the younger man's head back gently. Caught his gaze and took his bright green hazel-eyes in for some time. „Look at me.", he breathed, features relaxed and gentle. „You're alright. - It doesn't matter WHAT you are, okay? - I don't care."

Sam's smile faded slowly and something like sadness flashed thru his big orbs again. „I want to be human. - I want to be like you … and the others."

Dean frowned, well understanding what the man meant. „And I want to be invisible so I can sneak into the girl's showers at college.", he replied seriously, though his voice remained soft and low.

Sam lowered his gaze, knowing what the hunter wanted to tell him.

„So we're ready to get upstairs? - Or do you still wanna freeze to death down here?", the older male asked, brushing gentle down Sam's back and up again, sending a tingling feeling over his spine.

Sam nodded. „Bobby's okay with it?", he asked hesitantly.

Dean nodded. „Sure he is."

Sam let himself be helped up by the hunter and froze in his tracks as they were about to emerge from the panic-room. Dean stopped too, holding sam's hand, already outside of the room, while the younger man remained inside.

„ _Sammy_?", he asked softly and tried to catch his gaze.

But the younger male wouldn't. „Leave me here … i'll be okay with it."

Dean tilted his head to the side and took the pitiful form in. Much too wide clothes hanging from the man loosely. Too less self-confidence to **see**. **See** what Dean saw. A lost soul that deserved to be saved. A soul that had been thru hell and just needed the right people - HUMANS - around him. „I won't." The hunter tugged on his hand.

But Sam didn't move. So Dean stepped back inside and put his arm around his lower back, guiding him firmly over the threshold and up the stairs, where Sam stopped again. The young man looked back over his shoulder. Somehow the panic-room (as much as it reminded him of the place he never wanted to return, but also felt familiar to the place where he went in his thoughts when nothing else was able to give him comfort) felt like a safe haven. Where he couldn't hurt someone. Couldn't hurt Dean, wouldn't be able to hurt Dean's friends. He wondered. - _Wondered_ what Dean saw in him.

„I won't put you back in there, okay?", Dean asked heavily breathing. „I promise. - You don't have to get back down there if it's not necessary, Sam." He took his sad big hazel-eyes in.

The younger man nodded and glared to the ground.

„Now come on. - Might as well get something to eat." Dean smiled reassuring. „Me, Bobby and Jim will go and clean up a little bit, huh? - And you'll make us some breakfast?"

Sam cocked both eyebrows in surprise and looked at the older male stuttered. He should make breakfast? „I never … I … how do I …?"

Dean smiled amused. „You watched me, didn't you?"

Sam nodded, his breathing accelerating.

„You do what I did.", the hunter replied calmly and tugged Sam forward, still his arm around his back, as they entered the hall.

Sam looked shocked at the shattered glass on the floor from the front door and the dead body in the threshold. He stopped in his tracks and gazed into the living-room. Another couple of dead hosts and _blood_. So much _blood_. The younger male shuddered and tried to take a step back, but Dean's strong arm hindered him.

„It's okay. - We're going into the kitchen.", Dean nodded towards their right side, where everything seemed like usual. „Sammy?" The hunter tugged him forward and led him into the kitchen.

„You make breakfast.", Dean said and blinked at him. „All you need is in here."

Sam looked at the stove, then at the cabinets, then back at Dean. Whatever the hunter thought he was capable of, _he wasn't_. „But ..."

„Nah, you'll do the right thing. - Just call when you're done.", Dean turned around on his heels and went outside, then he shoved the sliding-door close behind him.

* * *

The hunters sat in the living-room. Everything nearly looked like before the attack. Just the vanished coffee-table and the tarp that covered the front-door where once glass had been, reminded that something must've happened.

Dean glanced at his watch … actually he had thought, the breakfast would've been done faster than their cleaning up … but no such thing.

„Sam?!", Dean called impatiently. „What the hell are you doing in there?"

No respond, just shattering crockery and a shocked cry.

„Sam?!", something like panic mixed into his voice. His look ghosted over the questioning faces of the others. „You okay?"

„Has he _ever even made_ breakfast before?", Bobby asked worried.

„Yeah … well … he has watched?" Dean's left corner of the mouth moved up. Maybe not such a good idea at all … „Whatever you're doing!", Dean called towards the kitchen, „Put 'ya clothes back on, I'm comin' in!", he put on his most cocky grin and jumped up.

Bobby and Jim looked at each other … then at Dean. „Thought you're more … _serious_ ...", Jim frowned, „when you're with him."

Dean cocked an eyebrow. „He might not understand everything I'm saying. - But I think he might as well know what's serious and what's not ..."

Bobby rolled his eyes at him and shook his head. „I hope ya _little attachment_ in there hasn't ruined my good dishes ...", he rolled his eyes again. „Or _you_ 'll pay for it."

Dean chuckled. „You mean the old white-blue plates with the cows on it?"

Bobby stared daggers at him, his mouth opened but nothing came out. „Dean.", he breathed in a reminding intonation. „Better go and make sure he doesn't touch my plates."

The young hunter nodded and went into the hall, where he shoved the door aside and stepped in.

„Thought you'd call when you're done?", Dean looked at the prepared meal on the small table and at the washed up dishes Sam had obviously used for cooking.

„Oh ...", Sam breathed and turned around hesitantly. „I … thought I'd wait until you're done … and I … I don't know ...", he stuttered, his gaze falling on the plates on the table. - The white blue plates with cows and a bridge on it. „I … ruined one of the plates … and then I tried to glue it together again … and ..." Sam took a step aside, showing him a plate standing on the cupboard. „... and then i tried to fix it … and …" he took another step aside.

From where Dean stood it looked like a plate with a spoon on it. Then he took it in closer. Actually it looked like a messy glued up plate with a spoon on it. He took another step towards the cupboard. Sam's cheeks blushed and his gaze fell, looking shyly to the ground.

Dean frowned and looked at Sam, then back at the plate.

„Already dried up?", he asked casually.

Sam nodded.

Dean laid his hand on the plate and tried to lift it up to get a better look at it. Though he knew it wasn't going to be repaired anyhow. But the young man obviously had tried his best to fix it up again. So at least he had to act like he had done a good job … _the Winchester thought._

„Well ..." Dean used a little bit more power, but the plate didn't move. Nor did the spoon and a cheeky grin spread all over his face. „You glued it to the board.", he stated and looked at Sam again, trying to suppress a lough.

Sam nodded. „... You think Bobby's gonna be pissed?"

Dean chuckled. _Sure as hell he would be …_ „Nooo … it's just the all-day dishes, kiddo. - No need to worry." _Bobby's gonna be damn pissed …_ „Guess breakfast is ready, huu?"

Sam nodded shyly. Still not daring to take a look at the hunter.

„Hey guys!", he yelled and stole a stripe of bacon from the plate on the table. „Breakfast's ready!"

And they came. Sam didn't look up. His breath caught in his lungs as he swallowed and heard Bobby's unique footfalls narrowing.

The old man's gaze fell instantly on the table with the good crockery. His eyes widened in horror, his face went pale.

Dean sucked in a deep breath and held it, watching the old man closely.

Then Bobby's look traveled to Sam, who still stood leaned on the cupboard, and then at the board with the plate and the spoon on it. Bobby frowned and gave Dean a knowing look, who slightly shook his head. The old hunter's gaze traveled back to Sam. And he put on a smile, that could've blinded the sun herself.

„That looks … good, Sam.", Bobby nodded and sat down, eying the plates with bacon, scrambled eggs and something that probably should've been pancakes.

Sam's head snapped up and he stared at the bearded hunter with wide eyes.

„Wanna take a seat or are you both gonna eat over there?", Bobby said gruffly and nodded towards the two empty chairs opposite of him and Jim.

Sam shook his head.

„How's Caleb doin'?", Dean asked before he shoved another fork of pancakes into his mouth.

Sam looked up, froze in his attempt to rip a piece off of one of his pancakes.

„He's good. - Painpills knocked him out.", Jim answered casually and poured himself another cup of coffee in.

The younger man forced the piece of pancakes down and looked at Dean, then at Bobby. „He hurt?", Sam asked after no one would met his gaze, nor carried on to talk about the hunter.

Everyone looked up. Surprised that Sam even talked to someone else beside Dean without being asked and somehow startled about his reason for asking.

„He's going to be okay. - Just a scratch.", Bobby reassured and laid his fork aside, eying the plate with the spoon on the cupboard pityingly.

„No need to worry. - He's a tough bitch." Dean chuckled and reached for another couple of bacon-stripes.

Sam nodded. All hunger forgotten, all appetite gone. Caleb got hurt because of him … just because he was with them …

Dean leaned over, his lips brushing over Sam's ear. „And no.", Dean whispered as if he had read Sam's mind. „It ain't ya fault. And now eat up, Sasquatch."

* * *

Dean laid on the bed, curled around the younger male, his eyes opened wide while brushing gentle circles around Sam's navel with his index-finger. The young man in his arms shifted a little bit and laid his hand over Dean's, stopping him.

„Dean ...", Sam started silently, cutting thru the silence.

„Yeah?", the hunter tugged him closer.

„Back there … on the yard … you said something ...", the young male started hesitantly. „You said I'm _your pet_ ..."

Dean closed his eyes for a brief second and exhaled audibly, waiting for what would come.

„Do I have to do the same then?" Sam's voice trembling.

The hunter frowned and pulled the hand from his stomach, letting it rest on Sam's side. For a moment he didn't know what he should say … how to explain what he had said, without making him think that he was something like a _pet_. „The same?", came over his lips before his brain was ready to wrap around the question and think about an answer.

„Do I ..." The younger man inhaled a slow shuddering breath. „Do I have to … do the same like when I was with them?", he finally asked.

Dean felt the young man in his arms shudder and tremble, not knowing what to do … A sudden wave of nausea and a violently twist in his gut kept him from saying something at all. And then he opened his mouth, but nothing come out, so he shut it again. His heart sank and dared to break on the sharp cliffs of reality.

„You have to do nothing, Sammy. - _Nothing_.", Dean whispered and rose on an elbow to look at him.

The young man held his eyes squeezed shut. „That was just … i don't see you as a pet. - It was just to stop Thomas from bleeding you out." Dean stuttered unsure, looking at the faint gash where the knife had left its mark.

„Are you going to sell me?", Sam asked further.

The hunter stared at him in shock. „What?"

Sam looked back over his shoulder. His eyes black as a new-moons-night, though filled with fear and guilt, as his gaze caught Dean's. „I heard them talk. They said that hunters sell their pets sometimes.", Sam answered and turned back away, facing the wall again. „You care for me. You feed me. - You bought me clothes and … and I'm allowed to sleep on something else but the floor. - I'm allowed to eat with all of you on a table … i'm allowed to eat fresh food ... It sometimes feels like home.", he babbled. „ _Please_ **don't sell me**."

Dean eyed him in shock as his heart sank. Sam told him what he had now … what obviously meant he didn't have before. Not with the demons. „Wait. - Slow down.", the hunter stopped him and laid a hand on Sam's shoulder to turn him on his back. Dean eyed him for a long time. „I won't sell you, Sam." He couldn't believe that these words even came over his lips. Another wave of nausea washed over him. „Whatever you heard … about _pets_ … I never had one and I don't want one. - Either i want what the demons wanted you to do." He cocked both eyebrows as he wanted to underline his words with it.

Sam sank back and let himself be gathered in the hunters arms again. Then there was silence for a while. Neither of them was able to close their eyes. Until Dean did, ready to drift off into the holy land.

„Back there … i was _Abaddon's pet_.", Sam started to tell silently and brought the hunter back to reality in zero seconds. „It's a _bad_ _one_. - It always wore another host … it thought it's funny." Sam sniffed and rubbed his nose on the pillow. „But i think it prefered the male vessels most. - It said it's more fun that way ..."

Dean drew out a long shuddering breath, listening to the young man's words. It made him sick, _hell_ , he was a Winchester and felt an urge to cry. Right here, right now he wanted to curl up around Sam and gulp him, drawing him into his own body, so he'd been able to protect him from the world out there … and though he knew he couldn't. There was no way he'd be able to protect him from _everything_. **But he'd try. He swore he would.**

„And it just came for me, you know? Always _me_. - It never chose someone else. And you know what the bad thing is?", Sam asked, his voice filled with deep sadness.

Dean waited.

„Sometimes i wished it'd had chosen someone else …" The young man's eyes had cleared and remained in his true color, staring at the wall opposite of them. „Sometimes i wished it would have picked one of the others for a change …"

The hunter drew Sam closer and tightened his grip protectively around him. „You're save now, Sam. - You know that, _right_?" Dean held him as tight as it wouldn't hurt him. „You know you don't have to do these things ever again, _right_?"

Sam didn't answer, nor move.

„You _know_ that, right?", Dean asked again, more forcing.

Again - no kind of respond, just a tense body in his arms, curled up and slightly shaking. So Dean eased his embrace and brushed Sam's hairs back, straightening it with gentle strokes. After a while, as he felt him easing into his caressing gestures, he slipped with his arm under Sam's bicep and guided his hand towards the young man's chest where he let his palm rest on the thin fabric of a worn out tee-shirt. Beneath it a gauze, covering Sam's tattoo. Somehow he must've been hurt, because it had bled. Not a lot, just a few droplets of blood, soaked into the shirt, but enough to surely hurt when he moved.

The hunter felt the warmth radiating from Sam's body, soaking it into his own and tugged the sheets over them above their shoulders and partly over the other one's head.

Dean frowned and let out a long drawn breath. Tears still stinging in his eyes, but not able to let them fall. „Maybe it's hard to believe for you … and I'm honestly not blaming you for it. - And I'm saying it again: _I won't ever hurt you._ I won't make you do anything. - For me you're as human as I am. As all of us are … and I'm sure, that however Nathan died he didn't blame you either. I am sure he knew that you had no other choice. And seeing you back with the demons broke his heart ..." Well he didn't know it for sure, and hopefully Nathan wouldn't look down on them right now and curse him for talking for him … but somehow it seemed the right thing to say.

„Abaddon's a knight of hell." Sam laid his hand over Dean's and squeezed it gently.

The Winchester caught his breath for a moment and closed his eyes. „Yeah?"

„Yeah." Sam squeezed his hand again. „I herd it talking to the others. - Herd it say that they have to obey … it was very mad about something. - A couple of days before … you know, before you found me."

Dean felt the thumbing against his palm fasten. „You know about what they were mad?"

Sam shook his head. „No … I … I can't remember." The young man exhaled audibly. „Sometimes things are in a haze … and I don't remember them … I know _I should_ … but I can't", he drew in a deep breath, pressing the hunter's hand to his body, feeling a slight sting from the ruptured tattoo, „ … I'm not much of a use. - I know that ..."

„ _Yes_ you are. - You're a whole lot more as you think you are." Dean closed his eyes, evening out a breath into Sam's shaggy hair and inhaling a deep breath of his scent. „Enough talking. - I'm tired."

The young man closed his eyes after some time, playing with Dean's fingers in his, thinking and trying to remember. Remember more of the things the demons had ever said. More of the things that probably could've been important. Thinking about how Dean was able to be that kind to him. Now that the hunter knew WHAT he was and WHAT he had done. It didn't seem to matter, and that was what mattered to Sam.

And that was how he fell asleep.

So did Dean. Trying to sort out the things Sam had told him, trying to memorize them, so he wouldn't have to bother the young male again about them. Trying to remember when he last felt that comfortable in someone else's company ...

_…... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 8 ~ Healer **

_two hours later …_

Dean laid on his side. Sam tangled in his strong arms, starting to shift restlessly and struggle to try to free himself from the weight of the hunters embrace – from the deadly grip of his dreams.

Dean blinked his eyes open, woken by him, tugging Sam closer. He then moved his lips close to his ear, barely touching it with his lips.

„It's okay, _Sammy_.", he whispered half asleep. „You're _save_. - No one's gonna hurt you. … i promise. No one is going to get you when you're with me." He rested his heavy head partially on the male's head. „C'mon, kiddo."

Sam's breathes speed up, so did his heartbeat. _Strong hands were pinning him down. His face on a cold surface. Relentless. Strong. Demanding. He felt it over him, all around him, inside of him. Claiming him and beating him to do what he was meant for. A rough voice hissing in his ear. „Don't fight it. - You know you can't. You're mine. You'll always be mine. No one is going to free you. No hunters, no angels,_ **no NATHAN** _. - You're completely alone with us. You're going to pay for running._ **No one** _runs from me. Neither do my pets." Hands shoved thru his hair and grabbed it roughly, yanking his head back that it hurt. „I'm going to teach you a lesson. From now on – every single day. You will regret to flee. You will regret to fight me, kid."_

Sam started to hyperventilate. Short fast breathes burst over his lips.

„Sam. - c'mon boy.", Dean was now high alert, trying to catch long arms and legs. Trying to save Sam from hurting himself. He finally managed to get over him, pinning him down with all of his weight, keeping his legs and arms on the mattress. „Wake up.", the hunter whispered, trying to keep his patience. „Snap out of it, Sammy. - I know you can."

_Over all the yelling and hissing something soaked thru. Something beside the burning sensation he felt. Something beside what was just happening. It was low and soft and barely a whisper to his mind. But it was there. It seemed to call him, tried to break thru to him._

„Open your eyes, kiddo. - You're save. Completely save. I'd never let something happen to you.", Dean whispered, a hand on Sam's sweaty forehead held him down gently. „You're going to be okay. - Just wake up."

Sam's eyes snapped open. „Dean?", he breathed, panting, trying to suck in more oxygen as needed.

„There you go, Sasquatch." The hunter let slowly go of him, laying back down on the mattress beside of him, while one of his hands kept resting on Sam's chest. „Are you okay?", he asked concerned, trying to catch the younger man's look, whose looks were darting thru the room.

„Dean?", he asked again with shuddering voice, not sure if this was real … or just another dream that would become a nightmare.

„Yeah, Sammy. - I'm here. - I'm here." The hunter slipped with an arm under Sam's neck and let the other one rest on his chest. „Try to calm down. - Try to take long deep breaths with me, okay?"

Sam nodded, but still wouldn't find the hunters eyes, _still caught in the fine tendrils his dream_.

„Look at me." Dean turned him to the side, guiding the young man's face up. „Look at me.", he repeated softly and waited. Waited for Sam to be ready, finding a way out of his distress. „That's good, Sam. - Look at me."

Finally Sam started to settle and realized where he was. With who he was. Letting his gaze be caught by Dean and nodded shakily.

„You're save.", Dean whispered, holding onto deep frightened hazel-eyes. „I'm watching out for you." He laid a hand on Sam's cheek. „You understand? - It's going to be okay."

Sam gave him a small nod and inched closer, wrapping his long arms around the hunter like for dear life. „Thank you.", he whispered back and pressed himself against Dean. Sam closed his eyes and buried his face in the older man's crotch between neck and shoulder.

The hunter hugged him back, breathing warm air onto Sam's sweaty neck. „It's okay. Just try and sleep a little bit longer, okay?" he glanced at the clock on the other side of the table. Not even midnight and the fun had already started.

Sam nodded slowly. „Please don't go.", he muttered after a while, as his breathing had evened out.

„I won't.", the hunter returned and shifted a little bit, gathering him in his arms again.

„Promise?" Sam's muffled voice was heard after another moment.

„Promise." He spread his palm between Sam's shoulder-blades and pressed him gently closer.

* * *

The next morning came fast and relentless. Dean woke with the first sun-beams that flooded the room, as he felt watched and his arms remained empty. He shifted and smacked his lips, taking a deep inhale. As he didn't sense the usual scent of shampoo and something that was typically Sam, and didn't feel the common warm body pressed against his own, his eyes snapped open. Hunter senses kicked in within a split second and his hand instinctively moved to the knife below his pillow, as he realized that someone was sitting on the covers – crossleged.

„Sam?", he asked drowsy and blinked until his vision cleared.

Black eyes were staring at him. Sam's features were blank and motionless. Just staring. Staring at Dean.

„Sammy?", he asked again, his forehead creasing in worry. An oppressive feeling tightened around his heard. He sat up slowly, trying to figure out if there was something beneath the blackness, if Sam was in there somewhere.

„Yeah.", the younger male breathed and the next moment the blackness was gone and bright big green hazel-orbs looked at him. He blinked and his lips curled up a little bit. Just enough so he looked like he was okay. „I'm sorry … I was in thoughts …."

Dean nodded and his eyes narrowed. „Huh." The hunter rubbed over his face and sighed. „How long are you up already?"

Sam sank to his side, resting his head on the pillow and slowly … so slowly extended his arm and laid his hand on Dean's warm cheek. Letting it there, taking the hunters face in, and his big emerald-green eyes. Feeling the warmth and the stubbles beneath his palm.

And Dean held perfectly still. He didn't dare to move, didn't dare to blink. - This was special. All the times Dean had touched the kid, held him, soothed him, rubbed his back, stroke thru his hair. And now there was Sam, touching him like this for the very first time. Choosing to have skin-contact with the hunter. Choosing to touch someone else, getting in contact with someone else just because he wanted to.

Dean let out a low long-drawn breath, soaking in the warmth and the tickling feeling of the big hand in his face … anyone else would've probably ended up with a broken nose if he'd tried. But not Sam. He took the younger male's bottomless hazel-green eyes in and smiled softy. Not daring to close his eyes, like he had wanted to. Afraid the image in front of him would be gone by then.

Then something in Sam's features changed. His eyebrows narrowed like he had realized that something wasn't right with what he was doing. A flash of sadness crossed his features and Sam pulled his hand back.

Dean breathed out audibly and frowned. The loss of the gentle touch hit him like a fist in his gut. „It's okay.". The hunter caught Sam's hand before it was able to completely withdraw and guided it back to his cheek. „You like that?"

Sam nodded and shifted his hand, feeling the stubbles of three days of none-shaving under it. „It's prickly … but i like it." He smiled amused and blinked at Dean.

A comfortable shiver ran down over Dean's spine and spread all over his back, running thru his limbs. The hunter chuckled. „Your's would feel the same way if you'd let it grow."

The young man shook his head in shock. „No. - i can't … i'm not supposed to … he doesn't .." Something like distress settled over him again. „If you want to … i can let it grow."

„It's okay, it's fine. - Just as you like it, okay?" Dean frowned, sensing that most of Sam's behaviour and unease was because of these hell-bound creatures. „I don't care if you've hair in your face or not."

The young man grinned. „But i like yours." He blinked and looked up, letting out a deep sigh.

Sam closed his eyes and just felt HIM. He stayed like that for a long time, as he felt Dean's hand withdrawal from his.

„We can't stay here.", Dean said, his voice husky – not anymore from his drowsiness … just because it was. „They know now that you're here."

Sam nodded, knowing that they'd come for him. „I don't want you or your friends getting hurt because of me."

Dean smiled reassuring. „They won't. - Besides: nothing can kill a Winchester."

Sam exhaled audibly and frowned. „You got hurt." His hand traveled down to Deans chest and over his ribcage, resting right above the bruise the demon had inflicted as he had sent the hunter against the cupboard and to the floor. „Caleb got hurt." Sam pulled his hand back.

Dean took him in for a long time, seeing all the sorrow, the _guilt_. „Not because of you. - Because of the Demons."

Silence.

„Hungry?", Dean asked after a while.

Sam nodded shyly and then he shook his head. „ _no_."

The hunter cocked an eyebrow. „You know you can just go and get something from the refrigerator if you like to. You don't have to ask or wait until someone gives you something."

Sam looked down, his cheeks coloring in a faint red.

„You know that right?"

Sam looked up hesitantly, tears filling his incredible big hazel-eyes. „I can't … I'm not supposed to … to claim something."

„Sure you are.", Dean frowned deeply. Realizing what depths Sam was laying open in front of him. „I can't promise that I'm able to fulfill everything. - But we can work things out, Sam."

The young man shook his head again. There was a barrier inside of him that wouldn't allow him to demand anything.

„I guess we've to work on that." Dean blinked and sat up. „Who's gonna take a shower first?"

Sam looked at him helplessly.

„OK, there you go. - You first."

Sam obeyed Dean's words, taking it more or less as an order. He took a quick shower, removed the bandage from his chest. He lurked at the tattoo, letting his fingers ghost over it, eying it in the mirror. The skin around it was angry red and slightly swollen. … And it never had been before. Sam wasn't able to see any scratches or something. It looked like the tattoo itself had bled.

Deciding that it wouldn't need to be covered anymore, he hurried to get dressed in fresh clothes. Jeans, and a nice plaid button-down shirt lay on the side of the sink. Sam liked the soft fabric and the denim Dean had bought for him.

Then he eyed himself in the mirror, while he brushed his teeth. Still unused to see his own reflection.

Unheard by Sam, Dean knocked carefully. He knocked again after waiting several moments without respond. Too sunken in thoughts and the task of shaving, he didn't even realize as the door opened, flinching every time it pinched. Sam drove the razor criss cross over his skin, trying to get the stumbles away. It was something like a compulsion … Abaddon would've never allowed him to wear a beard, nor letting it grow just a little bit.

Then he saw a movement out of the corner of his left eye. The razor stopped and he tensed, slowly turning his head towards the door.

Dean leaned in the threshold, Arm's crossed in front of his chest. Legs crossed and a cheeky smile on his lips.

How long had the hunter stood there? Had he watched him the whole time? … Sam's eyes went wide and something in his gut twisted.

Dean chuckled and shook his head. „You're doing it wrong, Sammy."

The young man let his hand with the razor sink and eyed it. Shaving-foam dripping from it. „You've to shave with the direction ya' hair grows. - It won't pinch that much and you won't cut yourself that easy."

Sam looked back at Dean, then at the razor.

„May I?", Dean asked and pointed at the razor. Looking eager and filled with something Sam couldn't identify.

The young man nodded hesitantly. Not sure if it was a good idea to give the razor away. The last time someone wanted to show him how to use it, he got all messed up and was left bleeding in his cage.

The older man stepped in front of him and took the razor in his hands, tipping Sam's head up. He eyed the taller man's face carefully.

„First … you rub the shaving-foam in small circles on the area you wanna shave ...", he talked, while he turned towards the sink and washed the razor clean, letting the water on. Then he put it aside and foamed Sam's face once again. He covered him gently with it, rubbing it in. …. Taking his time while he had the opportunity to be him this close, to show him something. Show him that he wouldn't hurt him, wouldn't even try. And that he wanted to show him things, teach him things. Things Sam wasn't able to know. Things he had missed in his life so far.

„Then ..." Dean smiled and caught Sam's gaze for a moment.

The young male eyed him warily as he placed the razor right below his cheek-bone and started to slide it downwards slowly. „You do NOT shave criss cross all over ya' face, kiddo." Dean gave him another short glance. „You slide from top to bottom. - Just how your hair grows." Dean guided the razor up again and set it beside the already shaved line. „Like this ..." Completely focused on the task at hand. _NOT_ thinking about Sam's beautiful eyes watching him. _NOT_ thinking about the comfortable warmth that rose inside of him. _NOT_ thinking about the pleasant vibes coming from the body before him. And _DEFINITELY NO_ blissful feeling to be close to the most handsome man Dean had ever seen. It wasn't about his body … there was more about this man. - He was too bony and looked more like an anorexic model than a normal man … but there was something about Sam. Something that had crept into his heart and wouldn't let go again.

Though Sam's wary expression and the decent flickers of fear tore at his heart.

„You see?", his voice husky.

Sam eyed him as he cleaned the razor and went for the other half of his face. He held perfectly still. As Dean was done he whipped the left foam from Sam's face with a wet warm washcloth. „And done." Dean gave him one of his most charismatic smiles ever.

Sam glared into the mirror. Well, way less cuts than usual … „Thank you.", he gave the hunter a small shy smile.

* * *

After Sam had left the bathroom and Dean was done – he also took his time to shave - they headed downstairs.

„About time!", Bobby called from the kitchen as he sat the pan with his scrambled eggs on the table where Jim and a hunched over Caleb sat. The wounded hunter was pale and obviously in pain.

Sam first hesitated to enter, but followed Dean, taking his place beside him by the table and eyed Caleb for a moment too long. Probably feeling Sam's attention he looked up. His face filled with something just possessed people were able to express. Pain, horror and something that looked like pure _hell_.

Their looks parted wordlessly as Jim loaded a giant amount of eggs and bacon on Caleb's plate and then on his own.

Sam waited until everyone had taken what they wanted, then he stole another glance at Caleb, watching him out of the corner of his eyes. Hesitating movements, the pain filled expression every time he made a wrong move … until he couldn't take it anymore. Sam nearly jumped up, all eyes suddenly on him. Dean nearly choked on a piece of BACON … ( _yes guys, i want reviews …_ )

The young man walked around the table – behind Dean – all eyes glued to him.

Caleb looked up at Sam as he stopped beside him, surprise and shocked that the young man held his gaze. Sam then laid a hand on Caleb's bare neck. A gently, barely sensible touch, and then he closed his eyes.

So did Caleb – the hunter squeezed his eyes shut at the sudden sensation that roamed thru his body. - Waiting … waiting for pain or death … but it never came … Just this tickly feeling …

Sam swayed. Then his hand slipped away. His knees buckled. He felt dizziness claim him, a dump pain crossed over his back, that slowly started to fade, just to come back more intensive.

He heard Dean call his name. - Uproar. Strong hands catching him before he was able to fall. No, not just a pair – something that felt like more than two. He felt himself being lifted off the ground, arms gathering him. His head lolled back, unable to keep him up by himself. Though everything was in a haze, he was able to hear, to see – eyes on half-mast.

Then the arms eased him onto a soft surface, a couple of inches too short for him though.

Warm familiar hands - on his forehead, cheek, his throat and chest, checking his vitals, checking his breathing - let him shiver. Sam saw someone bow over him, hear someone talking to him, but didn't understand, didn't saw who it was. The voice sounded worried and slightly panicked. He felt his own hands being placed on his stomach.

A several minutes later he started to regain control over his mind and body, still flooding somewhere between here and there …

* * *

„Caleb?", Pastor Jim asked, who stood shattered behind the three men, who lingered around the couch.

„I'm good.", He stretched his muscles and rolled his head as if he was trying to proof himself that there'd be no pain. „I'm fine.", he stated surprised.

The hunters looked at him.

Dean kneeled beside the couch, squeezing Sam's hand gently. Sam squeezed back weakly.

„What happened?", Jim held Caleb's gaze.

„I don't know. It felt weird – it tickled and then … then it was all gone ...", he answered, shaking his head slowly in disbelieve.

„Just like this?", Bobby asked frowning and looked back at Sam. An expression in his eyes that carried deep appreciation.

Caleb nodded.

„Sam?", Dean asked and Sam squeezed his hand in respond. „Are you okay?" Sam squeezed it again weakly.

„What happened?" Dean asked.

A blissful smile spread over Sam's face and he looked at Caleb – blinking happily. „Safed.", he breathed and looked at Dean with bright eyes. „We need to go.", he croaked, trying to raise his torso, but failed miserably.

Bobby went to get some water from the kitchen and handed it to Dean, who let the younger man take a couple of sips. Sam closed his eyes.

„Is he hurt?", Caleb asked frowning.

Dean eyed the young male and his fading smile as he blinked at him – looking so pleased with himself and somehow peaceful. Though he thought to notice strains of discomfort in his face. „You're hurt?"

„ _No_ ", Sam mouthed, „ _I'm good._ "

Dean smiled with a touch of sadness in his expression. He knew exactly why Sam had done this. He was thinking that it was his fault. And his alone that the demons came to Bobby's house. He sure as hell blamed himself for Caleb being hurt, for Dean being hurt.

„Do you need something?"

Sam shook his head.

Dean took him in carefully. The male seemed paler than before. The dark half-circles under his eyes darker. Then he looked up at Bobby and Jim.

„He might's gonna need something to eat." Caleb broke a long silence.

Dean nodded towards him, saying Yes.

The hunter turned on his heels, so did Jim and followed him into the kitchen. Caleb stopped in front of the table and eyed Sam's empty plate, frowning, as he felt a hand on his shoulder. „You allright?", Jim asked concerned.

Caleb huffed and turned around to face his old friend. „I'm fine, Jim. - Damn it … i don't even feel my damn knee anymore." He smiled sadly. „Our little precious over there healed me." He shot a glance over the hunters shoulder into the hall and looked back at Jim. „He healed me, damn it."

The Pastor nodded and pursed his lips pensively, as Caleb turned back towards the table and started to fill Sam's plate with eggs and bacon, before he turned back around. Jim still stood there, watching him closely.

„Can i have a look?", he asked and his eyebrows narrowed.

Caleb nodded and turned around, so Jim was able to tug the shirt up. It was true … the sewed up wound from yesterday remained as a scarred thin stripe under stitches. He swallowed and pulled the shirt back down.

„Just the stitches are itchy.", Caleb chuckled in disbelieve.

Jim let out a long-drawn sigh and nodded over his shoulder. „Just a scar ..."

Caleb cocked an eyebrow and nodded towards the living room. „Better get the kid something to eat – he looks exhausted."

Pastor Jim stayed in the kitchen, while Caleb went back into the living room, putting the plate on the coffee table beside Dean. „Here."

The hunter nodded and gave him a thankful look, before his attention went back to the half-conscious man beside him. „Sammy."

The young man guided his hazy gaze at Dean.

„Got something to eat for ya'."

Sam nodded and tried to lift his hand, but he still felt too weak. Though he knew in a couple of hours he'd be the old one again. Healing someone was quiet more exhausting than killing.

Sam exhaled and closed his eyes. - Some sleep would do the rest until it was done. Until his own body would've coped with Caleb's injuries.

„Hey, hey!". Dean snapped him out of his dreamy haze. „I'll help ya'. - You stay awake and eat and drink something for me, okay?"

Sam mouthed a _Yes_.

„I'll go and get you boys a pillow." Bobby disappeared and returned seconds later with three pillows.

His youngest friend took them gratefully and lifted Sam up gently. Feeling the younger man's body tense and a pain filled hiss was heard. Then he tugged the pillows under Sam's back, feeling for any injuries in the area where Caleb have had the tattoo and the wound. But there was nothing.

„It's not for long." Sam managed to say silently.

Dean nodded, more or less ignoring Sam's words. Actually he was a little bit pissed. - Well not just a little bit … Sam wouldn't do anything without asking … and about fifteen minutes ago he had just rose and healed his friend. - Well actually he hadn't taken anything … he had given something … Anyways … they had to talk about actions like this. It might've looked harmless at first … but now? … Maybe it was harmless for the one who got healed, but definitely not for the _healer_ himself.

Bobby tabbed Deans shoulder and disappeared into the hall. Caleb followed him right after, hesitating to leave the room.

Dean kneeled there for a while, watching Sam, seeing the happiness in his face, the relieve. He looked nearly peaceful. „Well, let's get something to eat in ya', shall we?", the hunter said and managed to give him a soft smile.

Sam shook his head, closing his eyes for a second.

„No.", Dean said more firmly. „You stay awake and eat something. - Whatever this just was … it has drained you out, hasn't it?"

Sam nodded, and mouthed „ _half bad_ ".

„Shut up and eat your breakfast." He said with a smile and forked a bunch of scrambled eggs on the fork. „Open up.", he ordered grinning and guided it to Sam's mouth.

… _... to be continued_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 9 ~ Something You Love**

Later Sam fell asleep and Dean went back into the kitchen to finish his own breakfast, emptying two cups of coffee and a whiskey to cool his nerves down. Caleb had insisted to stay in the living room, taking Dean's place – and watch over the young man.

The hunter sipped on the beer casually and glanced at Bobby. "So you're telling me that when a reaper bangs a human a _little Sammy_ is the result?"

The older hunter glared into the book before him and nodded.

"Wow." Dean sighed. "Why haven't we heard of something like that before?"

"Because it seems like after about thousand years after they last were mentioned in a script, no one seemed to have the need to mention them anymore. Once they were feared – were some kind of pets, held by demons. - Their stories may got lost during the time ..."

The younger hunter frowned and a lump grew in his throat at the word _pets_.

"Besides ... under special circumstances the soultakers were able to bind the souls - they were taking - to hell.", he continued after a small pause. "But it requires a spell and a giant amount of blood."

"I know that hunters aren't demons best friends. - But why in hell should they use soultakers – these kids – to collect hunters souls and bind them to hell?", Dean asked pensively.

Bobby shrugged. "I don't know. - Sometimes they do what they do ... without a special reason."

"Sometimes. - But something on that whole thing doesn't fit. Sure as hell not in this case. - For me it sounds like a plan and we've no clue what they are up to ..." Dean put the bottle aside and shifted in the chair.

"Anyways: About soultakers: Much longer before demons got their hands on some of them, they were some kind of "holy creatures". They were psychics, healers ... whatever they were capable of. - When you know what you've to look for, they appear everywhere. - Just aren't called soultakers. - They've much older names and appear everywhere in pagan legends and stories ..."

Dean raised both eyebrows and looked up, glaring at Bobby in disbelieve.

"Wow. - So you gotta tell me that our Sam's some kind of goddess?"

Bobby grimaced at him. "Of course not, Idjit. - Most of them are born human. - No abilities at all. Some do have them ... mostly able to see ghosts and communicate with them."

"Psychics." Dean muttered to himself, realizing that there had to be much more of them out there than he had ever thought.

"Obviously they're not that interesting for demons. - But those like _Sam_ ... the ones with special abilities ... they definitely are. What leads us to the ritual in the church. I found something about it .. and it ain't good." Bobby looked up from the book and took a gulp from his black coffee. "This ritual is used to summon a knight of hell. - Besides i think that this Abaddon might could be one too – Fact is ... they have to choose the knights vessel carefully and they need a soultaker for it. In Sam's case it'd have given the knight his abilities. Means he would be able to drag the ripped out souls into hell. No matter if they'd belong there or not."

"Knights can't switch between vessels ... but Sam said this .. Abaddon ... was able to ...", Dean mentioned.

The older hunter let out a deep sigh. "It might ain't a knight. - But I'll keep diggin'."

Dean paled visible and swallowed hard at the thought. "Means it didn't work with Jo and Andy?"

Bobby nodded and pointed of a drawing in the book. "I think so. But i don't know it for sure. - knights of hell are beasts. Hopefully – if Abaddon is one of them – it's the only one that walks the earth."

"Fantastic." Dean huffed and shook his head. "Any way to kill a knight of hell?"

"Nothing found yet.", Bobby answered and rubbed his temple. "Anyways, even if Abaddon ain't a knight, it seems like it's one of the oldest demons ever. - What means powerful."

"That means we've to run?" Dean groaned and shook his head. Running was nothing for Winchesters ... they were fighters ... warriors ...

Bobby nodded violently but slow. "Hide and keep ya heads down for a while. - I talked to Ellen this morning. She's got a small house in the woods. Pretty far away from the Roadhouse. All you gotta do is stock up on food and supplies. - otherwise it's all yours for your time being there." he cleared his throat. "She's gonna come by every couple of days and bring you new informations about what we find, since you won't have WIFI or any signal out there. - I'd suggest you both stay there, tell Ellen what you need and she'll get it for ya'."

Dean gave him a weak smile. "Can't get better, can it?"

Bobby laughed. "A couple of weeks without your asian beauty busties won't kill ya, boy."

The younger man's features turned serious. "First: it's busty asian beauties and second: I'm not addicted to porn or WIFI."

Bobby gave another lough and shook his head, tipping his ball-cap up. "Sure."

"What about the tattoo? Found anything?", Dean tried to get on another topic.

"No leads yet.", Bobby answered seriously. "Probably have to dig around in some older books. - Get into the library and borrow something."

"You mean steal?" Dean grinned.

"Shut up!"

Dean laughed. "Sounds like one big mess." He pinched and rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"And you're right in the middle of it." Bobby added with a worried smile. "Listen ... it's not like I wanna get rid of you both, Son. - But I don't think that they'll be gone for good." His eyes darkened with worry and sorrow. "Now that they know where you are ..."

Dean nodded. "I know. - We have to leave ... I just wished ... we'd have a couple of days more here."

Bobby frowned. "And you don't wanna run – you're a Winchester."

Dean smiled. "That too ... yeah."

* * *

Two hours later Sam woke with a start. Caleb rested in the recliner beside him, keeping guard, his eyes closed. Sam looked around, his gaze darting thru the room. Dean was nowhere to be seen. Just him and Caleb. _Had Dean left? Was he gone? ..._

Panic rose in his chest, climbing up his throat and settled all over his face.

"Dean?", he asked drowsy.

"He's upstairs, Sam." Caleb sat up right and brushed over his face with a hand. "He's packing up."

Sam sat up with a groan, squeezing his eyes shut and let his legs slide down from the couch. His back still hurt a little, though it wouldn't stay that way. Still feeling groggy and heavy, he braced himself with a hand against the backrest, trying to get his fuzzy memories together.

He looked at Caleb, his breathes speeding up.

The hunter frowned at him. "Everything's okay. - Okay?"

Sam nodded and wrang his hands. Trying to make himself as small as possible, he pulled his legs towards his chest and, hugging his legs and rested his chin on his knees.

Caleb bowed forward and put on a friendly smile. "It's okay. I'm watching out until Dean's back down."

Sam eyed him warily, trying to push his fear back down. Dean wasn't there. Not even close to him. Not in close vicinity. Dean meant to feel save – somehow. The hunter had always been there, at least closer than now.

Not that he didn't kind of liked Caleb. It was just he wasn't Dean. He was meant to be with the hunter. Sam didn't know how long he sat there, tensed, until he heard slow heavy footsteps on the stairs. Sam raised his head and looked towards the hall.

"Dean?", he whispered, waiting with a longing expression on his face.

Finally the hunter appeared, sunken in thoughts, his head bowed, in the doorway.

That was when Sam jumped up and RAN towards him. Ignoring the dizziness, his buckling knees. On the second step his knees started to turn into pudding. On the third one his right knee gave out under him, directly in front of Dean. His long arms wrapped around the hunters neck, who instinctively grabbed him and held him tightly.

"Sam?", he asked, looking stuttered at Caleb.

"Looks like someone missed ya', lad.", Caleb grinned widely.

Dean held the trembling form close, which pressed against him. "I just packed up our stuff, Sam. - I'm here."

Sam panted and shifted, so he'd have a better stand. The younger male clung to him like for dear life. " _I'm sorry – please – don't leave me, please, don't leave me._ "

"Sam. - I won't. I promised.", he tugged him gently closer. "Look at me, kiddo.", he waited until Sam made contact with him." - I won't leave. I just gathered our things." Then he cupped the back of the younger man gently in his hand, brushing over his soft hair.

Sam trembled, shivered, his fingers tangled in the hunter's shirt.

Dean let out a long drawn breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sammy – listen ..." He sighed, knew they had to leave as soon as possible. "We've to hit the road." He wished everything wouldn't be that difficult. He wished they'd had time. _Sam_ had time to adjust better to new situations. But he couldn't give him the time. Not right now. So he promised himself that he would. He would try to give him all the time he needed as soon as they were halfway save. "You feel up to it?"

The hunter knew – no matter what the answer would be, it had to be now. They had to leave, no matter what. And he knew, that Sam knew it.

Sam nodded into his neck. "Now?", he asked quietly, his voice slightly shivering.

Dean nodded. "Now'd be good.", he whispered and gave Caleb a glance.

"Shall i get ya' bags?", he asked and nodded upwards.

Dean gave him a blink. _Yes_. Then he returned his attention back at Sam. "We'll get you dressed in something warmer, OK? - It's gonna be a long drive."

Sam nodded again.

"Let's get back to the couch?" The hunter frowned.

Sam nodded again, easing his grip and let himself be led to the couch. He looked up at Dean, giving him an asking look. "I'll go and get our Jackets." He eyed Sam's sock-covered feet. "And ya' shoes.", he added with a soft smile.

Caleb cleared his throat. "I'm gonna grab ya stuff and get it into the Impala.", He nodded towards the front door and left hesitating.

"Thanks," Dean looked over towards his old friend as he left. Then he went outside for less than a minute to return with his leather jacket, another thicker black one and a pair of brown sneakers, A hoody clenched in his fist.

He laid the winter-garb on the couch beside Sam, keeping the sneakers in his hands. Dean didn't let Sam out of his watch, while he kneeled down before him, placing a hand on his left knee and looked deep into a pair of troubled hazel-eyes. "Gonna help you put them on?"

The younger male nodded and let Dean pull the sneakers over his gigantic feet. The hunter held his gaze while he rose and lifted the thick black jacket from the couch to let Sam slip into it and tilted a beany over his hair. He pulled it over his ears and over his forehead, smiling satisfied. ... _Damn it_ , the man looked cute – though the dark circles – wich seemed not that dark anymore – around his eyes. Under different circumstances he'd hit on the man. On the other side ... under different circumstances it'd have just been for a night. So no, this wasn't an appropriate way to think about Sam.

Then he pulled on his own jacket – his father's leather-jacket – and wrapped a dark-brown scarf around his neck. "Ready?", he asked the young man, who glared up at him with big motionless eyes under the dark beany.

He nodded again and rose – swaying for a moment, but caught himself after a few seconds, focusing on the hunter.

Bobby, Caleb and Jim were waiting at the front door for them. Caleb sighed deeply and clapped Dean's shoulder. "Just ... just take care ...", he muttered and blinked at him. "Try to stay out of trouble you both." His gaze went to Sam, who just hesitantly caught his look for a split moment.

Dean clapped back and grinned. "Try and not end up as a demon next time, mind me?"

Caleb chuckled and shook his head. "I'll get my tattoo fixed tomorrow."

The young hunter looked at Bobby, his lips formed into a thin line.

"Take care.", Bobby muttered. He wasn't a man of big speeches and farewells. Though he knew it wasn't really a farewell. And though ... Dean had grown to him like just a son could have. He knew about the danger out there, and by all means, demons were the biggest ones. To have them on your feet didn't end well regularly. So he hoped that John Winchester's son wouldn't lose this fight sooner or later and that it was a good idea to play catch with a bunch of demons.

Dean nodded and Bobby pulled him into a damn manly bear-hug. "I'll do."

"Hope so. - Ya know I'm gonna kill you if you're gonna die before me.", he whispered and eased his embrace, pulling back a step and eyed Sam.

The young man went rigid, as he felt strong hands on his shoulders. "You too, Boy." He smiled softly and made a step towards the young man. Then he pulled him into a hug too – a longer one as he usually would've given. "And watch out for Dean.", he whispered and let go of him again.

Sam hugged him back hesitantly, watching Dean's face, wich told him that it was okay. That Bobby was okay. That it was okay to be hugged and to hug back.

* * *

Minutes later they were already on the road, heading north. Snow covered the landscapes. It was a bright white. - So bright it nearly hurt in Sam's eyes, but he liked how calm the land showed himself. It looked so _clean_ and _pure_. It looked so soft and ... just everything he wasn't. Soft rock tunes littered the way to their destiny, while Dean focused on the road. Sam was curled up against the passenger's window, staring out into nothing until it got comfortably warm in the car and his eyes fluttered shut.

* * *

Sam woke with a start, as something brushed over his knee. He sucked in a deep breath and looked around, just to find Dean grinning at him from the driver's seat. "We've to stock up on food and other stuff." He pointed towards a building wich was named: "Moosey's Mart" and was placed right beside a gas station.

Sam cocked an eyebrow and looked back at Dean.

"And i want you to come with." His smile was inviting and soft. "You can pick what you want and how much you want."

The younger man's eyebrows furrowed and something like that's-a-trick-right-expression built on his face.

"But ..." Sam's eyes flickered black before he could even put the words in his mouth.

The hunter smiled sadly. "You think you can control it for a little while? - Just until we get sunglasses for you?"

The young man's hands began to shiver and he swallowed hard at the thought of going shopping in bright daylight. - The last time he remembered he was in a mart was when he was eight or nine. - But right here and right now? He was afraid. Afraid to reveal himself to someone else than Dean.

"Don't you worry – i'm right there, okay?", Dean said reassuring as he noticed the younger man's thoughts travel. He gently squeezed his knee. "You'll see it's half bad."

Sam blew out a low breath and nodded submissively.

And they did. Dean got one of the carts and Sam followed him inside. Hunched over and close behind the hunter, glancing to his left and right as the strolled past the first couple of counters with soap and shampoo.

"First, you need a shampoo. - You can't use mine all the damn time." Dean nodded towards his left. "I don't care wich one you pick. - Just don't let it be too expensive." He glanced over his shoulder.

Sam nodded and took a furtive glance at his left, where he saw a whole lot of colorful bottles – some were even as colorful as the prices on them. So Sam chose the cheapest.

"Toothbrush.", Dean said and picked one for himself and a second one for Sam. Also Toothpaste, a hair brush and some other things Sam didn't know what they were for.

They rounded the corner into the alley with instant food. Dean chose some chinese instant-noodles (duck-flavored) and nodded towards Sam, giving him a sign to choose something.

Dean was relaxed. Actually he was more relaxed as he would've thought he'd be. There were barely people in the mart except the cashier and a second member of the staff that was busy with cleaning aisle four up.

The hunter gave him time to read what was on the packages.

But Sam didn't choose anything, so they went on. Dean picked this and that and things he knew they would use if they'd hole up in a house far away from civilisation. (more or less). They finally got into the aisle with candies and snacks. Sam's eyes went wide as he saw how many flavors of chocolate there were.

Dean stopped and turned around, glaring up at Sam, wo nearly bumped into him. - Yes the man was taller. - The hunter eyed him concerned. Thinking if that was truly a good idea. He might should've left him the car ... Making the choices for him. It might was too early to put him thru a shopping tour, even when it was a small one.

Sam caught his gaze ... not sure about what to do, what Dean was awaiting from him to do ... Well, he knew Dean had said he should pick something he liked, but he didn't know what he liked ...

Dean turned towards the shelves to his left and eyed the chocolate bars a few moments, before he picked two bars of "butter finger" and held it in front of Sam's face.

"They're awesome." Dean grinned and tossed them into their cart. "Whatever you'd like to try ... Just take it, okay?"

Sam looked up, troubled hazel-orbs glaring desperately at the hunter. "No matter what?", he asked after a couple of seconds. "And it'll be mine?"

Dean nodded and petted his bicep. "No matter what." _.. all yours._

So Sam turned towards where Dean had picked the candy bar and eyed the shelves directly in front of him. There were these ... damn it, he couldn't remember its name ... it had a man's name in it. He focused and went slowly down the aisle, scanning the shelves for what he was looking for.

The hunter watched him curiously with a smooth grin, while Sam was looking for whatever he was obviously searching.

Finally there they were. His eyes lit up and a wide smile formed on his lips. Deep dimples of happiness formed on his face. He grabbed one of the "Oh Henry" bars and held them up, so Dean could see it.

The hunter chuckled and nodded towards him. "That's my boy.", he praised, but remained with his cart where he was.

Sam lowered his hand with the bar. He held it tight in his fingers, nearly squeezing it to death, but then his smile started to fade ... so did the hunter's. Sam shuffled back to their cart and laid the bar gently – like he didn't want to break it, as it was a holy thing – into the cart.

"Just one?", Dean cocked both eyebrows. The hope he had felt seconds before, that Sam might unbent a little bit, slowly faded.

Sam didn't respond, just shifting his weight from one food to another.

"OK. - Look. I'm giving you a job here, kiddo." A wicked smile on the hunter's face lit up. "You gotta choose AT LEAST ten things from this aisle. - I'll go and get us some sausages and stuff for the refrigerator." The hunter took a wary look over the shelves, glad that they were still alone in the mart except the staff and an old man, who just entered.

"I'm lettin' you the cart.", were the hunter's last words before he turned around and aimed towards the deli department. He knew he wouldn't do the man any good if they'd feed themselves up on instant food and frozen stuff. Sam needed profound feeding. Not just greasy foodstuff. The kid was way too thin and weak. Slept too much and looked like he'd crumble to the floor any moment. So he hoped, the more Sam would trust him, the more he'd eat and the more he'd be able to go out.

Sam stood there ... all on his own in the aisle, in front of their cart, eying the shelves and the displayed candies and the snacks on the opposite side. He sighed, not knowing what Dean would want him to pick. Though he had to pick something. The hunter had ordered him to choose AT LEAST ten things from there. So he started off with Jelly Beans after he had eyed the packaging and read the ingredients (not that he knew exactly what some things were). Then he moved on to something called "Muddy Bears" and "M&M's". He chose to pick some more "Oh Henrys", since Dean's behaviour showed that he'd like them. He went on and soon ended up with a pack of "Twinkies" in his hands, wich were the tenth item. Sam looked warily at the cart, not recognizing that the hunter never let him out under his watch, even when he was about ten feet away choosing what bangers he should pick.

Dean had said AT LEAST ... what meant he would be allowed to pick more than just the things he already had chosen. So he eyed the contents of their cart a little bit troubled and looked at the other side of shelves with chips and snips and something that was called Pringles and salted peanuts and cashews. Sam hesitated for a moment, but then he made a step towards them. Eyeing the offerings warily. He decided to pick up another few things ...

As he thought he was done, he just stood behind their cart and waited, lurking over the shelves (what was actually not a problem either for Sam or Dean.), trying to find the hunter. Sam tipped his beany up a little bit since it made attempts to slide too deep into his face and over his eyes.

Finally Dean came back, with his hands full of things he couldn't remember he had seen in his life. Some of them looked weird and ... well ... just weird. - At least their packaging.

"Fine.", Dean's eyes lit up as his gaze flew over the box of _Twinkies_. "You've done good." He looked up and smiled at Sam while he put his gatherings into the cart. "Lets get on. - We need some cereals and eggs."

Sam nodded and followed obediently towards the coolers, where they picked up eggs and bacon and yoghurt. The young man chose to add anchovies ... Dean said nothing, just grinned, while Sam mustered the offered food in the coolers and freezers attentively.

After an hour (what was definitely longer than Dean had stayed in a mart yet), they were done and went to the cash desk. The cashier eyed the both men and the contents of the cart curiously. Dean held his poker face, while Sam just stared to the ground.

"Damn hunters.", the young man behind the desk muttered and stared daggers at Dean while he pulled one item after another over the scanner.

The hunter's eyebrows rose and he looked at the man with an icy green orbs, sliding his hand into the inner side of his jacket, to show the handle of his blade. "Watch your mouth boy.", he threatened.

The man wasn't older than twenty-four, surely not younger as Sam was at least, but obviously had backbone. Dean read the name on the young man's shirt as his eyes narrowed.

Dean bowed forward, so his face was close in front of the man's. The man froze with the _Twinkies_ in his hand. "Charlie – you're lucky that it's just me ... another hunter would've beaten you half dead for cursing at our kind.", he whispered.

Charlie nodded eagerly. "I'm sorry, Sir.", he stuttered, his face pale now.

"Fine.", Dean straightened again and gave Sam a soft look, who was still staring to the ground or occasionally glancing at the "Oh Henrys".

Somehow this event got embarrassing. Dean knew that not all people were cool with the things hunters did. He also knew that there were plenty of people out there who thought it's cruel to hold monsters like _pets_. Though ... this young boy played with fire. He knew his own kind. They weren't all as human as he would've wished. Some were bastards and already had killed for less than cursing at their kind.

"Go on.", Dean ordered in a firmly intonation and cocked an eyebrow. "I wanna be out of here before dusk."

Charlie nodded and hurried up with shaky hands. Sam glanced at the counter from time to time, not letting his "Oh Henry" out of his look. Finally the cashier picked it up and pulled it over the sensor. The hunter couldn't ignore Sam's attention for the candy-bar. Dean grabbed it right away – not daring to toss it into the cart – and offered it to Sam, who looked first at the bar and then at Dean, and back at the bar.

"Thought you might wanna have it in the car?", Dean asked with a wicked grin. Sam grinned back nodding and took it, holding it so tight in his warm hands, it'd be a mess when he'd unpack it. But he felt so happy – The Oh Henry's was his. His alone. He beamed at Dean and then at the chocolate bar in his fist.

* * *

The both of them loaded their supplies and groceries into big paper bags and placed them on the backseat of the Impala, nearly filling it up to the top.

Dean eyed the bags (surprised that it had gotten to be that much) and then Sam, who was already shivering from the cold. The younger man's sneakers covered with snow, since he had to shuffle right thru the area where the snow reached up to his ankles.

Dean sighed.

The hunter let Sam back in the car while he took the cart back. Meanwhile Sam had already unpacked his _Oh_ _Henry_ and was turning and chewing half of it around in his mouth, as Dean slid back into the driver's seat. Not able to say a single word or even parting his lips without daring to loose any of the Oh Henry's he gave the hunter a blissful look.

Dean eyed him curiously for a moment and grinned widely. He had wanted to say that Sam should take it slow, not stuffing all the damn chocolate in his mouth at once. But damn it ... the kid looked so happy, just because of a simple chocolate bar. So he just couldn't say anything about it ...

* * *

Two hours later ... snow was falling again ... night had broken over the land ... as Baby's heater gave up on them. And the weather report warned about a snow chaos and the coldness that'd come during the night.

Dean glanced at his watch. They had still two hours in front of them ... without any civilisation on their way to their destination ... and it definitely wouldn't get warmer.

_... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 10 ~ Frozen **

Dean pulled the Impala on the side of the road and glanced at Sam, who had dozed off once again – gratefully.

Wasn't that Winchester luck? Baby's heater dying on their way to a safer place? Instead they'd freeze their asses off if he wouldn't be able to repair whatever the cars issue was.

With a silent grunt he got out of the car and a deep sigh wrenched from his throat to evaporate on the nasty cold air. They already had about minus fifty-five fahrenheit and the temperature would drop further.

He walked over to the trunk, skipping it open and picked out a pair of leather gloves, eagerly pulling them over his stiff and freezing fingers. Then he grabbed his flashlight and shuffled back to the hood. As he had switched the flashlight on, he opened ita and after another while of eying the engine and some of the other parts inside, he let out another grunt and a pained hiss. One of the wirings had melted. No way he'd be able to repair it right here on the road in the darkness without even having the part with him. He slapped the hood shut, letting Sam jump up right in the passenger's seat, a half melted Oh Henry in his right hand.

"Baby, don't you do that to me ...", he muttered to himself jittering and shook his head in disappointment. "Not now ..."

Coldness crept thru his clothes. Icy air was nuzzling on his face. The hunter frowned as he got back inside the car, giving a stuttered looking Sam a concerned glance.

Snow was falling again ... he just hoped they'd make it to the cabin in time.

Sam watched the hunter troubled, frowning and narrowing his eyebrows as Dean rubbed his leather-covered hands together. The younger male wanted to figure out what had made the hunter mad. But he knew because of experience that it was the best to keep his head down and mouth shut when someone showed signs of anger like Dean did right now.

"One of the wires burnt thru. - We've no heating, so i guess we've to pull thru the rest of our way, Sammy." He looked at him, his lips tightening. "Might gettin' cold in here soon.", he explained further and tossed the flashlight over his shoulder on the backseat.

Sam just nodded and held half of his Oh Henry's in front of Dean. Sams gaze saying _don't-you-worry-kiddo-a-oh-henrys-is-gonna-make-it-all-good-again._

Dean chuckled and took it, eying the piece of chocolate for a minute before he took a giant bite.

"Thanks.". He said chewing and turned the ignition key, calling Baby's heat back to life.

An hour later the giant freezing started. Sam had gotten two blankets from the backseat and had laid one over Dean's lab and the other one over himself. Their limbs were already starting to become stiff. The coldness crawled up their feet and fingers.

Dean shot concerned looks at the passenger's seat. Sam shivered since about fifteen minutes without a single break. Dean did too ... but he actually was used to worse than the cold.

"You okay, Sammy?", he asked, his voice shaky.

The young man nodded. "Yes.", came a silent respond.

"We're there soon.", Dean reassured him, trying to focus back on the icy road in front of them and not to think about his stinging fingers and toes.

* * *

It was not even forty-five minutes later, when the car's tail broke out as Dean drove into a slight curve. The Impala started to spin, while the hunter tried to get his Baby back under control. He simply got too tired. He actually was too tired to drive anymore. It might was because of the damn cold, that his body wanted to shut down for the moment. He must have dozed off and nearly killed them both ...

Both men's hearts raced, as the Impala finally got to a stand. Both panted. Dean had nearly peed himself. Sam braced himself frightened against the dashboard in front of him. Not daring to move for a minute.

The hunter leaned back in the driver's seat and closed his eyes for a brief moment. Squeezing his eyes shut for a second to try to clear his vision.

"Dean?", a hesitating request came from the passenger's seat.

He looked at Sam and nodded. "It's okay. - I'm just ... just tired. - it's not very longer." He might wanted to seem reassuring about it, but he didn't. There was no way Sam believed it.

The hunter hissed and touched his forehead where a lump was already growing. He must've hit his head on the steering wheel. Maybe that was why everything thought it was allowed to blur and move around him. He inhaled a sharp breath.

"Sammy." Dean squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, trying to focus on the road, but he actually saw two roads and four lanes, so he cursed. He cursed violently.

Sam flinched away and pressed his back against the passenger's seat, eying the hunter warily.

"Sam?", he muttered hoarsely. "You okay?" He glanced at him.

Sam just nodded, rubbing his right temple before he looked at the hunter. instantly noticing that Dean wasn't okay. The way he screwed his eyes shut a couple of times and the pained hiss as he touched the lump on his forehead again ... and he just knew it. He also knew he was able to help him. So Sam laid his hand on Dean's cheek and closed his eyes for a brief second before it got pushed away roughly.

"Don't,", Dean said firmly. "It's okay. Don't you dare and take that one on you." _... after all_ **I** _screwed up the drive ..._

Sam stared at him with wide eyes and nodded. He didn't want to let him heal him. The young man swallowed. Did the hunter think he was something like poison? Didn't he trust him enough on that?

"I can make it go away.", Sam whispered softly, his hand pulling back and pressing against his own body.

Dean looked at him, cursing himself that his words came out rougher than they were meant to be, as he recognized the frightened expression all over Sam's face. He guided his hand on one of the double-vision-lower-thights of the young man, who flinched away violently. Dean didn't care. He laid his hand on his lower thigh and squeezed it gently. "Don't want you to do that." He inhaled. "I know you can, Sammy.", Dean gave him a half-smile. "You're in no shape to take that on you. - Trust me."

Sam's ashamed look flew into his own lab.

"It's just a concussion. - Nothing bad." His vision started to clear slowly, four lanes become two again.

They stood there – across the road – for about fifteen minutes before Dean dared to get his Baby back running.

More careful and slow, since the hunter had some issues to focus on the road and the worse becoming weather. Sam sat crouched in his seat, watching the hunter warily with big darkened orbs.

Why wouldn't he want to let him be helped? He didn't understand ... He'd be whole again within minutes ... Though he didn't try to dare and convince him. - It was never a good idea to gainsay someone with the hunter's skills. He had seen it in the mart before. Dean probably wasn't that nice as he seemed.

* * *

After what seemed like a painful eternity they turned into a sideway, wich lead after another couple of miles thru woods and darkness to their destination. And with every mile they past, Dean looked more exhausted, looked more like he would pass out every moment – at least Sam thought so.

The hunter parked his Impala in front of the porch.

"We're 'ere." Dean's voice was broken and barely noticable.

Neither of them was able to feel their toes or fingers anymore. Their cheeks flushed from the coldness and their noses and lips felt frozen. Sam nodded shivering and opened the door. "Dean?", he asked.

"There in a minute.", he got a barely hearable answer.

The young man got out of the car and closed the passenger's door, then walked towards the porch, waiting to hear the driver's door open. But no such thing. He stopped and looked back over his shoulder before he turned around completely and tried to make out the figure in the driver's seat thru the windshield. It was way too dark and the Impala's headlights didn't let him see anything from his direction.

So he narrowed the driver's door hesitantly. Dean was worse – he immediately knew. _He just knew._ So he opened the car's door and bowed down inside. "Dean?", he asked hesitantly.

The hunter's lips were slightly blue, his usually bright green orbs dazed and their spark of life seemed to fade. Dean's lips moved but no sound came out. Sam's forehead creased in worry. What was he supposed to do?

"I'm back in just a minute, Dean.", he whispered, his voice jittering violently.

The young man glared at the house and its front door, then back at Dean. What was he supposed to do? He wasn't allowed to heal him: dean didn't want it ... Somehow he had to get the hunter inside, get him warmed up ...

Sam ran up the porch and rattled on the door handle, but it wouldn't open.

His heart speed up.

Panic gripped him.

Somehow he had to get him inside the godforsaken house!

Then he remembered. People tended to hide their keys around their houses or close to their front doors. But there wasn't a lot around to hide a key. Firewood and even more firewood on the porch. His gace flew up on the threshold. There was a thin jut. He longed up with his long arms and fumbled around it, biting his lower lip, his too big beany shoving over his eyes once again. Bugged he gripped it and stuffed it into the pocket of his jacket.

He couldn't get his luck. With stiff and shaky fingers he fumbled for the lock and let the key slide inside. Sam slammed the door open and a moldy, even colder scent surrounded him instantly. His first attention drove towards the fire-place right opposite of where he stood. The open room to his left had to be the kitchen. (Gladly the Impala was parked the way that it illuminated the insides of the room behind the front door a little). To his right were three doors. He had to find the bedroom. Hopefully all humans had one. Because he wouldn't want to lay the freezing hunter on the dusty hard floor.

After he had found the bedroom, he grabbed the blankets, pillows and sheets that covered it and pulled them in front of the fire-place, where he spread them out and draped the pillows where he wanted to have Dean's head later.

In unbelievable hurry he pulled off his thick jacket and laid it out there too. Then he hurried back outside, finding Dean crumbled down in the snow. He must've had tried to get into the house by himself.

Sam didn't lose time.

He kneeled down beside him and laid a hand on Dean's cheek, feeling shallow warm breaths against his skin. The young man slid his arms under him and lifted him awkwardly, earning a long-drawn protesting moan from the hunter.

Back in the house, he laid the hunter on the prepared place in front of the fire-place. Then he went back outside and grabbed both blankets from the Impala and hurried back inside, covering the hunter with them.

Now he needed to make fire. He had to make fire. How the hell should he do _that_? ... He thought, tried to calm down and thought about what he had seen when he was a kid. Most of the things he knew where things he had seen or he had got told ... so ... A lighter. He needed a lighter. Sam glanced at the hunter.

It took Sam some time find the lighter in Dean's jeans, since he hesitated to touch him ... touching him like this. To search thru the hunter's clothes. He got some of the wood from the porch and put it beside the fireplace. He tried so hard to get that damn wood to burn, but it wouldn't work. So he tried to find something else to start the fire ... _The trunk_ ... Maybe the hunter had something in the trunk to burn and get the fire started ... and he did find something, that helped him to make some much-needed fire.

Sam shut the door of the house and went back beside Dean, feeling his forehead and cheeks. He didn't stir. The young man gazed at him worried, trying to figure out what to do, how to help him. He felt so lost, so damn lost ... It would've been easier if he'd healed him ... but Dean didn't want to ... The hunter still felt cold, but he didn't shiver anymore. Was that good? ... no it was bad, wasn't it?

Sam remembered when the black-eyed monsters transported them in their van. They always curled up together on the load bed – he, Jo and Andy. They always shared their body warmth under the single thin sheet they had gotten to keep themselves warm. And it helped. They weren't freezing that bad anymore.

Sam's eyes filled with despair and fear of what could possibly happen after that ... The young man threw a couple of logs into the fire and sat down beside Dean. He sighed deeply and peeled off his shoes and socks. Sam was shaking – he still felt cold, so damn cold ... but it wasn't just the coldness that made him shiver. It was the task before him.

True, they had laid together every night, curled up into each other or at least close to each other. - But this ... somehow ... it felt weird and odd and so different without clothes. The fact that the hunter wouldn't wear more than his pants let him hesitate.

Shoving his thoughts aside, he crawled towards the hunter's feet and pulled off his boots and socks too, covering them again with the blankets. Dean's jeans were wet from the snow he had fallen in, so was his shirt and the jacket partly. So Sam moved upwards and stripped the hunter down to his underwear. Gently and slow, not to irritate him ... not to get him back to consciousness before he'd recognize what Sam was doing. He could always punish him afterwards.

The hunter's skin was cold to the touch, his lips still slightly blue and his breathing was slow and shallow. Sam eyed the body before him for a moment before he covered him again. The young man didn't strip himself. _He couldn't ..._

So he slipped under the blankets and started to rub Dean's left fingers, hand and arm up to his shoulders. He did the same with his right side, rubbing with his own legs over Dean's. Both of them were cold as ice, but the massages and the rubbing, and the warmth from the fireplace did their work slowly. Too slow for Sam's sense, since Dean hadn't really improved ...

He had to admit that when the three of them warmed each other they wore a whole lot of less clothed ... so he might had to get at least rid of his shirts. So he did. He pulled his shirts over his head and snuggled back against the hunter. Sam rubbed over Dean's stomach and neck and chest and slowly – so slowly he noticed that the both of them started to warm up.

A low groan left the hunters lips, as Sam tugged himself closer and slung his long arms and legs around him, taking care of it, that every single inch (except Dean's head – Sam had tilted his beany over the hunters head.) were tugged under the blankets.

Slowly but surely the hunter started to regain some color and the blue of his lips faded and they became their original soft pink back. Sam cuddled closer, laying his head on Dean's chest and listened to his heartbeat. He wanted to sleep. Wanted to give in and doze off, but he couldn't. The hunter's heartbeat wasn't as fast as usual and it seemed weak somehow ... he had to watch over him, and in case he wouldn't get better he had no other choice. He would've to heal him, if he wanted or not.

"Sam?", came a hoarse question, and the hunter's hand on the stomach shifted a little bit.

"I am here.", he whispered softly. "You will be warm soon."

A long drawn moan came as respond. _Sam_ .. Sam was right, it started to become warmer. He didn't knew how, he couldn't remember when, but there was radiating warmth from his right side and a soft orange-red light came from there. On his other side was Sam. So close to him, snuggled into his side, arms wrapped around him. He felt the younger man's head on his chest. He wanted to ask him if he was okay. He wanted to take care that he wouldn't freeze.

But right now ... obviously ... somehow they had made it into a house or motel? Somehow there was fire and Sam ... and it was warm and slowly started to get comfortable on the hard surface he was laying on. And his damn head hurt like hell. Dean tried to remember how it came. What had happened that they ended up here. Everything was too fuzzy, too blury.

It was just a short lucid waking. Exhaustion and tiredness took their tall on him and carried him away again into the wide land of dreams.

* * *

Some time while Sam remained on the hunter's side, his body seemed to get weaker. The young male knew there was something about Dean's head that wasn't right. Sam felt it. He had felt it back in the car and with every passing second, and every single slowing heartbeat of the hunter, the feeling got more and more intense.

Dean didn't want him to make him whole again. He knew it ... but on the other side ... The hunter surely didn't know that it wasn't just a bruise on his forehead ... He surely didn't know that it was getting serious. So he did, what he had to ...

Sam spread his palm over the middle of Dean's chest and closed his eyes. He felt the warmth of the hunters skin on his. He felt the hunter's heart growing stronger again. He felt the things that were happening in Dean's brain vanishing slowly. He'd try to heal him not all at once, so maybe the hunter wouldn't recognize that he had disobeyed. And even if he did ... Sam liked him. He didn't want him to die. He didn't want to be without him. So he'd take whatever punishment he would get for his disobedience.

* * *

Sam didn't fall asleep. He didn't dare to. Instead he had left Dean's side when he was all warm again and his heartbeat seemed stronger. The young man took care of the fire, got logs from the porch and got the groceries inside, storing them on a counter in the kitchen.

Though there was no light, no electricity and somehow there was no water to flush the toilet.

Anyways ... he had kept guard all night, doing this and that and watched the hunter while he slept. No matter what he did, he tried to stay as close to him as possible. Every single moan or rustling of blankets drew him on Dean's side to check on him. In between he managed to place the hunter's clothes around the fire place and their shoes.

He also drew sigils on the windows and the front and back door. Sam gathered some of Dean's weapons from the weapon-storage he had found in the trunk and the hunters duffel. Including the two handguns that were stored under the passenger's seat.

Sam had also found a couple of candles with whom he made some light in the kitchen, where he unpacked their groceries and stored them into the cupboards and shelves. Except the food Dean had picked up from the deli department. These things he packed up again and put them on te porch, where they'd stay cool (or frozen).

* * *

The hunters head thumped, a stabbing pain and bright daylight brought him back to conciousness. He felt a comfortable warmth surrounding him, the soft blankets shifting over his skin as he tried and roll over to his side. That was when he realized that he was nearly naked, and remained just in his underwear in front of a fireplace, on layers of something soft and silken.

That was when he realized, that wherever he was right now ... that he was on his own. There was no warm body beside him, no one whose arms were tangled around or vice versa. The hunter blinked his eyes open. First his vision was blurry, and the stabbing pain increased as he turned towards his left where daylight beamed thru the windows.

"Sam?", he asked and laid a hand on his forehead. Even to hear his own voice hurt as hell.

His attention turned towards the fire. It was still burning and there were two logs left beside the fire-place. Someone must have had made fire. Someone must've had stripped him out of his clothes and prepared a nest for him in front of the fire to keep him warm.

His look fell on the hanged up clothes of him in front of the fire-place and his and Sam's shoes on the floor near it. He sat up awkwardly and looked around. The door into a room that seemed to be a kitchen stood open and the soft scent of coffee and scrambled eggs and bacon flooded towards him. He closed his eyes and groaned. This smell meant heaven.

And slowly he started to remember. He had hit his head after they nearly had an accident, but he kept on driving. He remembered that Sam wanted to heal him and that he pushed him away and had said _NO_. He remembered that he wanted to try to get out of the car by himself after Sam had disappeared. Actually he had thought Sam had taken off, would try to get away by his own somehow. That was until he had felt arms around him, lifting him and that smell that meant nothing else but _SAM_.

Dean looked around and his gaze fell on a couch behind him and a small table with a TV on it a couple of feet away from his feet. He slowly rose and swayed for a moment. As he was sure that it was save to try to walk, he examined the duffel on the couch. It was his. So he gathered a set of fresh clothes and dressed himself before he started to check the house.

The prepared breakfast in the kitchen stood on the stove, where a small fire was gleaming. So someone had made breakfast and was gone ... though not for long since the scrambled eggs still seemed to be hot, so did the coffee that was slightly boiling. He bowed down and inhaled a deep breath with the strong scent of coffee, when he heard the front door squeak and open silently.

His hunter senses kicked in immediately and he sneaked to the kitchen door, lurking around the corner.

A tall figure guided the door back into the lock with a bare foot. A pile of logs in his arms. Wearing nothing but a pair of blue jeans and a shirt.

"Sam?!", Dean called out relieved and took a quick step out of the kitchen.

The young man took a sharp inhale and all the logs crumbled loudly to the floor. He stared pale and blankly at the hunter, swallowing hard. **First** he had stripped him down ... **second** he had healed him partially (maybe the hunter wouldn't even remember that, since he wasn't conscious). **Third** ... he had left the house without authorization. **Fourth** ... he had messed up his trunk ... **Fifth** ...

he wasn't able to go on with his list, as the hunter spoke again. "Are you okay?"

Well, Sam would've thought about something else he'd say. He just nodded, watching the man warily as he emerged completely from the kitchen and took two steps back as the hunter made two steps towards him.

"What is it?", Dean asked and he narrowed his eyebrows, eying the young man. He had thought they were over this?

"Are you mad?", Sam asked, curling his toes.

"No ...", he answered confused, his gaze glued to Sam's red toes and feet and the melting snow on them. "You were outside like this?" He pointed at his shirt and then at his feet.

Sam followed the hunters look and nodded shyly.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and stepped over the logs with a deep sigh. "Dude. - You can't just go outside like that." He sighed again as he stood before him, catching the younger man's gaze. "You'll catch a cold or worse." The hunter's voice was so soft, so _caring_ ...

Silence. Just their looks. Emerald-green eyes like liquid crystals glued to hazel-green ones.

Dean reached for Sam's hand, shuddering as he closed his fingers around Sams. "C'mon. - Breakfast, i'm starving." Dean smiled and pulled him into the kitchen. He looked around, noticing that the surfaces and the floor were dusty as hell. Just the table in the middle of the small room was clean, so were the chairs. "Guess we've to clean up later, huh?"

The hunter guided Sam to the table and let him sit down. Then he turned around (because more wasn't necessary) and shoveled the scrambled eggs on the two prepared plates, so he did with the bacon, and placed one of them before Sam and one where he would sit. Then he got them both coffee and placed it on the table. He handed him a fork and bread and finally sat down.

"Get your feet on my lab." Dean petted on his own knees and looked up from his plate.

Sam straightened his legs. They were long enough (or the table was small enough) so it was no problem he'd do that. The hunter tugged them under his shirt and moved closer to the table, so Sam's cold toes met his stomach.

The hunter shivered and rubbed Sam's toes for a while, as he forked eggs on his fork and got them into his mouth.

"Awesome.", Dean groaned and looked at the younger man, who poked around in his eggs and occasionally took a bite.

"You're tired.", the hunter noticed surprised and leaned back, laying his other hand on the big feet under his shirt. "Did you get some sleep last night?"

Sam took another bite from the bread and gazed up under dark strains of hair. His look was wary.

"You haven't. - have you? ... you watched out for me ..." Dean glanced around, scanning the room and the floor. "You've ... you've stored the groceries?" His gaze ghosted over the thin layer of screwed up dirt on the floorboards.

He didn't know if he should feel embarrassed or glad about the fact that Sam had watched over him.

Sam nodded. "Except the once that need cooling. - They're still outside on the porch.", he answered silently and leaned back with a moan, eyes fluttering shut as Dean drove his thumb over his sole. A tingling feeling shot up the younger man's leg and streight over his spine into his neck. _This felt good._

A faint grin ghosted over Dean's face right then and he shoved another fork full of eggs into his mouth.

The hunter was kind of impressed that Sam was able to do things on himself, not needing a leader ... maybe he'd be able to be live normal one day ...

Dean petted the giant feet and leaned over his plate again to pick up a stripe of bacon. "Eat your breakfast, Sam.", he said silently. "And get some sleep afterwards."

The younger man's eyes snapped open. "No.", his eyebrows furrowed. "I mean ..." His gaze fell and he wanted to pull his feet back, but Dean held them firmly in place.

Sam tensed visibly, his breathing sped up and he lowered his gaze, as his face darkened. "I'm sorry.", he muttered.

The hunter's forehead furrowed. "What are you sorry for?"

"I ... I didn't mean to take issue on your orders.", Sam muttered. He had to remind himself more often what his place was. - If he wanted to keep his clothes, his shoes and a warm place to sleep he had to obey. Had to take what the hunter was giving. - He wasn't a bad man. At least not since he knew him. He hadn't beaten him yet, he hadn't made him do things ... he didn't lock him away ...

Dean let go of the younger man's feet and let out a long-drawn sigh.

"Okay ... so ... if you want you can get some sleep later ..." Dean didn't want to let things sound like orders ... not when it was about Sam. Not ever. He had the slight feeling that most of the younger man's life had depended on orders ... "After you've eaten your breakfast." This was definitely meant as an order.

Sam nodded, still staring into his lab.

The hunter lifted his shirt and gave Sam his feet back ... it wasn't like they belonged to Dean anyway.

They ate their remaining breakfast in silence. While Sam wanted to clean up the bedroom, Dean went outside and started the gas-generator in the small shed on the backside of the house, so they'd have electricity. Then he turned on the water, since they needed to shower and clean up their dishes at some point.

Somehow his headache was getting better by hour. Usually he was used to have a heavy head and being dizzy for days after what had felt like a concussion. But maybe he had been wrong and it hadn't been all that bad ... or SOMEONE had helped with it. The hunter gritted his teeth and was about to storm into the house and nail Sam against the first best wall he'd find ... but then. What the hell? The kid sure as hell didn't look like that. Last time he had done something like that he had been out cold for a couple of hours and afterwards he wasn't doing well either.

Dean took a couple of deep breaths before he went back inside, and glanced around. The mess in front of the fire-place was gone now and a glance into the bedroom showed that the sheets were back where they belonged to. So was Sam. A bulge formed on one side of the bed under the sheets and Dean smiled. "That's my boy."

What the hunter didn't see was, that Sam wasn't asleep. He wasn't calm. He wasn't relaxed ... Sam had his hand pressed against his chest, right where the demonic tattoo marked his body and tried to breathe thru the pain ...

* * *

_An abandoned warehouse, somewhere in the USA ..._

A red-haired woman sat slumped into a black leather recliner. Before her a broad desk and a brass-bowl on it, filled with red liquid. She held an atame in her hands, wich's blade gleamed in the rare daylight that beamed into the giant hall. The womans eyes flashed black as she started to chant in an old – long forgotten – language and engravings on the blade started to glow in a dangerous red. It looked like the red liquid in the bowl started to boil. And she leaned over it.

"It won't work if he's too far away, Ma'am.", a hesitating voice was heard and a man in a black suit stepped out of the shadows.

She smiled softly. "I know ...", she gave back calmly, as she leaned over the bowl and stared at it. "Soon you're mine again ..." A devilish grin formed on her lips as she tipped the blade into the liquid.

Then she guided it over a map and closed her eyes for a moment. As she opened them again all blackness was gone and her grin widened. Then she looked up and caught the man's gaze. "He left the salvage ..."

_... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 11 ~ Snow Is Falling **

It was snowing again. - Layers of soft white flakes were covering the Impala, as the hunter glanced outside thru one of the small windows. He sighed and strolled back to the fireplace, throwing another log into the fire.

Dean had cleaned up the kitchen and livingroom, shooting a glance every now and then into the bedroom, where Sam was still covered under the sheets and blankets. It was getting late already and the hunter was about to warm up some ravioli for dinner.

Sam was sleeping since the early morning now and hadn't moved. He didn't even seem to have nightmares. The hunter wasn't sure what was more irritating. The fact that Sam didn't have nightmares (where he usually woke every night a couple of times), or that he himself missed to be needed by him.

Finally his worry won and he sneaked into the bedroom, eying the bulge on the bed suspiciously. He stood a little bit helpless in front of their sleeping place, then decided to go and have a look at the young man.

As he stood beside Sam's half of the bed he sat down on the edge and laid a hand on the outstanding form, since he was covered from tip to toe.

"Sammy?", he asked softly and brushed gently over the area that felt like the man's bicep and traced his hand up to his shoulder. "Got dinner ready."

No respond. Though he felt a slow but steady rise and fall under his palm. "Hey, kiddo ..." Dean started to chew on the insides of his lower lip and waited ... he didn't know how many time he had let pass before he finally decided to tug the covers back a little bit, so he saw Sam's shaggy hair and face.

Dean smiled softly and couldn't resist to let his fingers run thru the soft hair and brush it out of his face, as he saw him sound asleep. Sam looked so innocent and peaceful when he was like that. Like any other normal human ... well not like any other human, because this was Sam. The only Sam he'd ever let that close to the bundle of nerves deep inside his heart. _His Sam_. He abruptly stopped his thoughts before they could go any further and cleared his throat quietly.

Sam blew out a long breath thru his nose and his eyes fluttered open slowly. He blinked a couple of times and then realized that Dean sat beside him, the hunter's fingers still tangled in his hair. The young man couldn't hold back a comfortable purr and yawned.

"Enough sleep, buddy. - Made us some dinner." Dean smiled at the sleep-drunken expression on the man's face and chuckled. But the smile faded fast as Sam pulled his face into a pain filled grimace and rubbed over the left side of his left chest and let out a hiss.

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Are you hurt?"

"Just sore i think.", he answered drowsy and frowned back.

Dean eyed him for a moment, then tugged the covers further down. "I'd like to have a look at it ...?", he said questioning, not breaking their eye contact.

Sam just nodded and rolled on his back slowly. It felt like his heart had gotten ripped out and put back in. It had started short before he attempted to fall asleep and lasted for what had felt for an eternity. Actually, as soon as it had started it had ended again and left a damn sore feeling in his chest.

The hunter gave him time to get comfortable and glanced over the button-down shirt, then back up at Sam, who watched him warily. The younger male inhaled as deep as possible, as he tried to unbutton his shirt with shaky fingers. He frowned ... he didn't want to ... _he couldn't ..._

"It's not like i wouldn't have seen you that way, ain't I?", Dean asked softly, a sorrowful expression in his eyes, but his lips were curled up into a gentle smile.

Sam just nodded and his fingers shook even more. No ... he couldn't ... he just couldn't ... "Please don't make me ...", the young man whispered and looked aside, as he fisted the front of his shirt in his fist.

Dean let out a long-drawn shaky breath and bowed over him, laying his hand on Sam's cheek so he was able to guide his face back towards him. "Hey – Just let me look, okay?" Dean tried to smile, but failed. He could damn good imagine why the kid was responding like he was. His whole behaviour and the nightmares. The things he was pleading for to stop. The things he was crying out nearly every night ... "I won't touch you. - I won't do anything.", he continued as he caught Sam's gaze. "It's okay to be afraid, you know? - It's okay that your hands are trembling ... it shows that you're uncomfortable with something. And it's okay to be uncomfortable with things like this." The hunter rubbed with his thumb over Sam's cheekbone. "You've no reason to be afraid of me, Sammy. - You know that, right?"

Sam's gleaming hazel-orbs were filled with fear and something that pretty much looked like hope.

"I'm just looking, no touching okay?", Dean tried not to let him be pulled into Sam's mess of emotions at the moment. - There was no way he'd be able to help the man if he would let himself being dragged down.

Sam nodded shyly, and slowly – so slowly released the shirt of his deadly grip, while he watched the hunter curiously.

"Good." Dean smiled satisfied. "I'll unbutton your shirt, okay?"

Sam nodded hesitantly and watched the hunters hand opened button after button. Then the older male brushed the two sides of the shirt apart and eyed his torso. Dean's breath caught in his throat and resisted the urge to touch the with scars pattered skin on the younger man's front. He looked up at Sam, who still eyed him warily, obviously not trusting him enough.

Then his gaze fell on the tattoo – what reminded him that he still didn't know what it meant. Dean exhaled audibly. Beside the old scarred wounds all over Sam's front was no nothing else that would visibly explain it. His look traced down Sam's ribcage. The smooth pale skin, and the ribs, good visible under a layer of skin. His eyes were guiding him over to Sam's too flat stomach, past his navel and thin line of curled short hair to the waistband of his jeans. That was when the hunter caught himself in failing the task at hand.

"Try and turn to your side, okay?", Dean requested calmly and waited for Sam to turn around. He would have liked to support him ... but since he said he wouldn't touch him ...

He did, and Dean tugged his shirt up to examine his back. Neither a single bruise or anything else there (besides angry scares). As the young man turned back on his back, Dean's eyes flew back over the scars on Sam's chest.

Sam didn't dare to look back at the hunter. At least not into his face. - He couldn't understand how the man could look at him like this. All the warmth and ... the other thing he wasn't able to put his finger on ... He was a whore. Disgusting. A demon's pet. He was filthy and wrong and dirty, and he knew it. Everyone knew it. Sam squeezed his eyes shut as the memories and voices dared to come back - overwhelming him again.

"Hey, it's okay, Sammy." Dean said softly and tugged the shirt together again, starting to button it up. "Doesn't look like you got hurt. - Maybe you're just sore ..." A faint smile crossed the hunter's features.

Silence. - Though Sam had turned away his face, the hunter could sense that the young man was swallowing a sob and if he wasn't completely wrong, a tear was leaving Sam's left eye. "It's okay. - See? - Nothing happened. I just looked." He knew that he didn't understand how Sam felt. He knew that victims of abuse ... (and the bad word, Dean Winchester refused to take in his mouth) ... weren't that easy to handle. He had it seen before. - Even if it was probably a whole lot of a difference to compare that stuff to Sam's story.

The young man's head turned slowly towards Dean and a pair of desperate hazel-eyes searched his face, while his hand rested on Sam's chest.

"You wanna stay a little bit longer?", Dean asked finally.

Sam gave him a short nod and reached for the hunter's hand as he wanted to pull it away from his chest.

"You want me to stay?", the hunter asked surprised, searching Sam's face for distress.

Sam nodded again and inched towards the middle of the bed to make some place for Dean. The hunter eyed the invitation for a moment, thinking if it was a good idea or to find any sorry excuse why he couldn't. Dean inhaled slowly while he took Sam's pleading look in.

"Please ..." Sam whispered, his big eyes growing even bigger with his request. "Please stay."

... And the hunter gave in. He stripped his shoes off and crept into the bed beside Sam, covering them both with the sheets and the comforter. Sam man immediately pressed himself against the hunter's chest, searching comfort and the feeling of being safe.

"I'm sorry. - I'm so sorry ...", he sobbed into the hunter's shirt relentlessly. "I just can't ... i can't – forget. - They are – are still in my head. - The voices don't go away. They won't. And i – i . i can't, Dean. I can't."

"Hey, it's okay to feel that way." Dean wrapped him in his arms and tugged him closer. "Completely okay. - You don't have to apologize, kiddo." His heart bleed more with every sob, every wince, every tear that came over Sam's mouth and from his eyes. "You're save. - I'm gonna take care of you." Dean whispered, chanting his usual mantra when Sam got oddly distressed or when he had his nightmares.

He gathered the younger male in his arms and placed a gently kiss on his forehead, like it was the most usual thing in the world. Like he had done this ever since. Surely he noticed what he had done just after it had happened, squeezing his eyes shut for a second and waiting for Sam to flinch or pull away. But he didn't. He stayed right where he was, purring softly into the hunters chest and nesting his face in Dean's tee. Maybe he haven't even realized it – at least the hunter hoped so.

"Okay. - Five more minutes.", Dean whispered huskily and buried his nose in Sam's soft hair. "Then we'll go and get our ravioli before I'm starving."

Sam shifted a little bit in his arms, enjoying himself and the comfortable warmth radiating from the hunter's body. His chest and heart still felt sore and kinda hurt, but it wasn't that bad anymore. Not when he felt as safe and comfortable like this. Not with Dean right beside him. Sam wasn't able to remember if he ever had felt that way he felt right now. Sure, he didn't know anything about the hunters past and he sure as hell didn't know what the man had planned ... but right now he didn't care. He'd try and take all the comfort that he'd get. Try to feel happy for the first time since he was a child.

What was supposed to last five minutes, lasted about half an hour. Dean wasn't able to hold his over-filled bladder back anymore and his stomach was rumbling and crying for food. So he withdrew from Sam, who had his hands still tangled in Dean's shirt, obviously not wanting to let him go. Though he did, even when it was under protest.

When Dean emerged from the bathroom, Sam was already standing in front of the stove and stirred in the pot with the ravioli in tomato-sauce to warm them up.

Both of them worked in silence, while Dean placed two bowls on the kitchen-table, a fork and a spoon beside everyone. That was when Sam finally placed the pot in the middle of the table and sat down, while Dean started to part the contents in two fair servings.

* * *

Later they sat down on the Couch. Sam on one end and Dean on the other one, as he switched on the TV. There weren't more than four channels. Somehow the hunter started to miss the merits of civilisation right there.

While they sat there, Sam started to curl up into himself, glancing every now and then at the hunter on the other side of the couch, whose look was glued to the TV as if nothing else existed.

Surely there was something else that existed ... Sam. Though his look was glued to the TV, his thoughts and mind were swirling around the young man on the other side of the couch and ... other stuff. He could feel hazel-orbs glancing at him at some point, though he refused to glance back.

The other stuff his mind wouldn't let go about was the fact – a funny fact – that he didn't miss something that was something particular in his life before. Something he haven't thought he wouldn't miss ever.

Lola and the other one (Alex) ... Surely he had thought about them (mostly Alex lately) ... but not in the way he had before. He had thought about them, because he didn't miss their company. Not even a little bit during the past few weeks since Sam was with him. _When Sam had gotten special to him._

And there was the problem ... Sure Sam was old enough (at least physically) and probably not more than four years younger than him. But _damn it_ ... it wasn't about sex, and that was what Dean Winchester disturbed even more. It was disturbing that he was comfortable with cuddling and snuggling and holding him in his arms. It was disturbing that the things he always wanted to elude were happening right now, and that he liked it. That he liked every single moment he was able to spend with Sam in his arms or when he simply was around him.

Dean knew where this could possibly lead and it was wrong. **Seven-Days-From-Sunday-Wrong.** The kid (yeah well, he was a kid since the guy was damn well younger as him, and some of his behaviour reminded him of kids at some point) had been abused and (damn well he didn't even wanna think about it) most probably raped and if he didn't know better he had the feeling that he started to fall in love. He thought to know that this could just end in a disaster. Sam didn't even dare to make the smallest choices (except it was an order to make a choice) ... he didn't even know what it meant to love someone (highly likely) ... If Sam would be even aware of what they were doing, since it wasn't normal – for usual people – to share a bed - the way they did - when you don't know each other.

And if he didn't know better, he'd say he was molesting Sam in some way.

With a deep sigh and still in thoughts his look traveled from the TV towards Sam, taking in the colors of the tv mirroring in those soft hazel-eyes. The colorplay nearly let them look like liquid crystals.

"You wanna watch something else?", Dean asked hesitantly. He wasn't even aware of what they were watching right now ...

Sam shook his head and looked at him with big eyes. Something longing lurked behind them, something that sought closeness and contact. And Dean knew it, he could sense it. It was all written over the younger man's face.

Dean tilted his head to the side and let a few seconds pass, before he threw his arm on the backrest and nodded towards himself. "C'mon, Sammy.", he said low with a knowing grin.

A shy smile spread over the younger man's face instantly and he scooted on Dean's side, leaning against him and snuggling into his shoulder. Then he sank down and rested his head in the hunter's lap.

Dean smiled and exhaled a deep breath as he started to caress Sam's hair and played with one of the hazelnut-brown bangs. "Better?", he asked after a while, all his doubts shoved aside again. How could something that was so wrong feel so right?

Sam nodded and laid his big hand on the hunter's knee, squeezing it gently. "Better.", he answered in a whisper and blinked at the TV. They sat there for a while. Eventually the both of them dozed off soon after ...

* * *

Wouldn't it have been for the knocks on the door, the both of them would've spent the whole next morning asleep on the couch in impossible uncomfortable angles. Both woke with a start. And before Dean was even aware of what had woken him, he felt suddenly cool air instead of a warm body beside him, heard the coffe-table – he had pulled in front of the couch – topple over and Sam was gone.

The hunter sat up and swung his legs from the couch, as it knocked again. "Yeah?!", he called out towards the front door while he searched the room for any evidence where Sam could've been gone. ... this could just have been Ellen. "Just come in!"

He was already on his feet when the door opened and a short blonde woman in her late forties stepped in. Dean gathered her into a bear hug, before she was even able to know what was going to happen to her.

"Good to see you again, hon.", she spoke with the unique scent of smoke in her voice.

"You too, Ellen.", he gave back and released her.

The woman's gaze flew thru the room and a curious expression formed on her face, interrupted by flashes of worry. Then she looked at Dean, taking in his relaxed features.

"I feared i'd have to clean up for ya both when i get here ... but ... not that bad.", she praised and let out a deep sigh. "Where's the kid?"

Dean rubbed over his face. "Vanished as you knocked." The hunter's voice was still hoarse from the fast awakening. "We just got up ..."

Ellen nodded again and took another look thru the room, wich got caught on the kitchen-door. "Thought I'd get breakfast when i come here?" She grinned and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah sure ... just ...", Dean's gaze fell on the fire-place. Not a single gleam of fire was left. "We didn't get started for the day ..." He felt a little bit taken aback. He actually had planned to have everything suited before Ellen would show up. - And he definitely wouldn't have thought that Ellen would come by that fast.

"No problem." She smiled reassuring. "You gotta make fire and I'll go and get some breakfast for the three of us."

Dean nodded with a huff and smacked his tongue as he turned towards the agape standing bed-room-door. "Just ... give me a second."

"Sure. - Go and check on him." She smiled softly and followed the man's gaze towards the bedroom. "No need to hurry anyway ..."

Dean nodded gratefully and left her right where she stood. As he entered the enlightened room, he stopped in the threshold. Sam sat curled up in the corner beside bed and wall, visibly shaking.

"It's okay Sam." He narrowed slowly and squat down beside the younger man, laying an arm around his shoulders. "It's Ellen. - You know her ..."

Sam blinked up and took the hunters face in warily. "Church?", he asked frowning.

Dean chuckled and added a short nod. "Yeah, that's her. - Ellen's a friend.", he explained whispering. "A good friend." He ran his fingers thru Sam's messed up mop of hair, straightening it. "She's not gonna hurt you, Sammy. - Ellen's a nice woman ... when you know her closer ..."

The younger male leaned against him and closed his eyes for a brief second, as the hunter started to massage his scalp gently. "She'll check on us every couple of days though."

Sam looked up at him and frowned.

"C'mon. - Lets go and say hello." Dean stood up and straightened, reaching towards Sam. "She won't bite you."

Sam watched the offered hand with hopeful glistening orbs and took it, letting him be helped up. All he would've wanted was to curl up and stay where he was until she was gone again. But Dean didn't seem to want that. On the other hand ... what could probably happen? ... He _trusted_ Dean. Everything he had said so far was true, though something deep down in his mind screamed at him not to trust the hunter. That he was probably worse as the black-eyed monsters out there. That this was just a game to win his trust and that he'd hurt him whenever the time was come.

Sam followed him, led by the hunters hand, and hesitated as they reached the door. He lurked into the livingroom, wich was empty. Then he heard the chattering of dishes and pans in the kitchen and instinctively wanted to draw back, but Dean held his hand tightly.

"Just come.", Dean looked back at him reassuring and smiled softly. "It's okay."

So Sam followed him into the kitchen. The nearer they came, the more he pulled back, so he was walking right behind the hunter as they entered.

"I thought about Pancakes, scrambled Eggs and bacon?", she asked with her back towards them.

"Sounds fine, Ellen.", Dean glanced over his shoulder and led Sam to the table, where he let him sit down. "I'm going to make fire and get some wood inside ..."

Sam's grip on his hand tightened and he glared up at him with fear in his eyes.

"It's alright, Sammy. - I'm right next door and on the porch, okay?" He smiled and looked at Ellen who turned around to face them both.  
She smiled softly as her look fell on Sam and then back up at Dean. "I've some wood on the load-bed. You could stack it to the other one on the porch when you're at it?"

The hunter gave her a nod, then looked back down at Sam, whose heart started to race again like it wanted to win a champion ship. The hunter squatted down and laid a gentle hand on his cheek. Sam leaned into the touch, tears stinging in his eyes. " _Please_.", he pleaded silently. "Stay?"

Ellen's eyebrows narrowed at the picture before her. For a brief moment her features went unreadable, then sorrow crossed her orbs and she put on a gentle smile. "You could help me though?"

Sam glanced at her while he still tried to not end up as a panicked wreck.

"It's okay. - She's gonna show you how to make pancakes, okay?", Dean asked, sharing a look with Ellen who nodded with a sigh. "You wanna make pancakes for me?"

A faint smile ghosted over Sam's face. "Yeah."

"Fine. - And throw some of the butterfinger-crumbles in the pastry too, would ya?"

Sam's smile widened and he nodded.

"Awesome. - I'll be outside for a while. - Just holler when you need something." Again the hunter shared a short gaze with the woman in front of the stove and Sam lessened his death-grip on Dean's hand.

* * *

No one needed to holler that day. Sam sat at the table for while and when it was about the pancakes he let himself being shown by Ellen how to make them, while Dean got the logs from her truck on the porch.

Ellen spent the rest of the afternoon with them. More with Dean than Sam, since the younger male settled on the couch and watched TV while the other both stayed in the kitchen. The huntress told him that Bobby hadn't found anything about the tattoo yet. Nor did he found out something about Abaddon.

She left later at night after they have had dinner with another can of ravioli. So did the days went on. Occasionally Sam seemed to be in pain, what worried Dean at some point. - Specially when it seemed to get worse with every time Sam gripped his chest and started to whimper in pain. Though the hunter knew that no hospital in the damn world would look Sam over. And it'd been hard to explain why the younger man's eyes flashed black every time another wave of pain washed over him.

So he had taken him to the pet doctor two hours away and somehow regretted it, when they came to an old man, who obviously didn't care a lot about sick creatures. He was extremely rough and crude with Sam, so that the hunter felt the urge to pull the guy over his desk and punch him. But he didn't. Well, he had pulled him over the desk and threatened him with god knew what, but he couldn't punch him. Over all the man was still human.

After an x-ray that didn't show any signs of an injury, and showed that Sam's heart was okay, he sent him and Dean away with a bottle of pain-killers. Though he was relieved somehow that it didn't seem to be something organic. What meant it could probably be something supernatural.

What had shocked him on the other hand was, that even he – Dean as a loan – was able to see the healed multiple fractures of his ribs on the x-ray.

So he had taken him back home again, had taken him to bed – like all the other times it had happened before and had given him two of the pills, wich seemed to help a little bit with the pain. Sadly they didn't work as good as they should have though ...

Other than that Sam seemed to do better. He smiled more often, his nightmares started to get less and he didn't hide anymore when Ellen came by. He also had gained some weight and the pale colour of his skin was nearly gone. So were the dark half circles under his eyes.

Though the fact that Sam was doing better, he was still clinging to Dean. He still curled up in his arms and still sought the closeness of the hunter. Would've anyone else seen the both together they would've thought they were a couple.

* * *

It was one of these days, when Ellen got by with another load of logs on her Pick Up. Dean was already waiting for her on the porch as her car pulled up in front of the house.

"Hey, Ellen!", Dean called out, blowing a warm breath into the still icy air. Though it wasn't that cold anymore.

"How are you both doing?", she asked as she followed him up the porch.

"Thanks. - Sam's doing better. And I'm gettin' lazy." Dean chuckled. He rubbed over his stomach and stopped in front of the door and turned towards the huntress. "Wait", he said hesitantly and eyed the woman's hope-filled features for a moment.

"Don't you worry.", she said, as she caught the hunter's concerned gaze. "I'll stop, when he doesn't want to talk about it anymore."

Dean nodded gratefully and entered, holding the door for her open. "Hey Sammy.", he called out, "Ellen's here."

The young man emerged from the bathroom in nearly the same moment and tugged his still oversized hoody streight. Ellen and Sam shared a look. Sam knew that Ellen wanted to ask him something. Dean had told him already a couple of days ago, but pretended not to know what it was about. Not that Sam would've asked. He still took things like they were and followed orders, just that he had gotten a little bit more self-esteem over the weeks of training.

"I'll be in the kitchen if you need me.", the hunter said and gave Sam a reassuring look. "Okay, kiddo?"

Sam just nodded and stood where he had stopped, shifting his weight from one leg to another and back again.

"Why don't we sit down, hon?", she asked gently and moved towards the couch.

He nodded and followed her lead, sitting down in the furthest corner from Ellen and eyed her warily, as she cleared her throat.

"So ... Sam ...", she started hesitantly. "Dean told me, that you ... you knew Jo?"

Sam's look lowered and fell into his lap, where he started to play with his fingers like a little child that was about to get punished for stealing candies.

"Yes.", he answered silently, and pulled a leg to his chest, leaning his cheek on his knee's side.

"Would you mind ..." Ellen sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, rubbing over it. "I mean ... did you knew her?"

Sam glanced up between his long chestnut-brown bangs and nodded hesitantly.

"Did you knew her well?"

Sam shook his head. "When we were younger i did.", he answered, barely a whisper in Ellen's ears. "I don't remember that much."

"It's okay, honey.", she reassured him with a strained smile and inched closer, just to push the younger man further into the corner.

Dean shot a _longer-than-nessassary-glance_ thru the kitchen's door towards the couch. The hunter bit his lower lip as he noticed Sam pressing himself further into the corner on the couch.

Ellen stayed put then and eyed the young man closely. "You don't have to talk about it, when you're not comfortable with it, okay?"

Sam nodded again.

Ellen added another nod and took a deep breath. "Was she ... did she ... did she kill people?"

Sam nodded. "We all did. - We all lured hunters into traps.", he answered in a random tone.

The huntress sighed and closed her eyes.

"But she wasn't bad, ma'am.", Sam added and looked up, catching Ellen's gaze for a moment. "She was nice. - She didn't want to do what they told us to do."

Ellen seemed kind of relieved.

Silence for some long moments, and as Ellen wanted to ask another question, Sam continued: "I liked her. - Andy liked her too."

A small smile built on Ellen's face and tears started to fill her eyes, though Sam seemed to stay untouched. "Was she like you?"

The young man shook his head, well understanding what the older woman wanted to know. "We were all different.", he answered. "Jo had this ... this unique scent on her. Men fell for her like shot ducks from the sky. She ... was unique."

"And you? - You and Andy? Did you both fall for her?" Her voice turned into something threatening.

Sam answered with a chuckled long-drawn " _No_ " and looked up, holding Ellen's gaze longer this time. "Me and Andy ... we both didn't. - I think it was because we were the same even when we were different. You know?" He blinked. "It just didn't work on us ..." His look went back into his lab and his face darkened again.

Ellen nodded. "And ... the – the demons ... Did they touch her?"

Dean leant in the threshold and listened to them, while his gaze narrowed. He could feel a deep frown building on Sam's forehead, though he wasn't able to see it.

"No. - They didn't." The young man looked up, meeting Ellen's gaze streight away, laying all his cogency into his look and features. Dean was stunned what a good liar the kid was. "They hurt her ... yes ... but not in the same ways like me.", Sam's voice grew smaller and barely noticeable at the end.

"Lunch it is.", Dean called out with a carefree smile on his lips that never met his eyes. Like he had heard nothing of the spoken.

Ellen sniffed and wiped her tears away. "Thank you, Sam.", she said quietly. "Thank you for telling me. - It means a lot."

Sam just nodded. Then they sat there on the couch for another few moments in silence, until he looked up at Ellen and then at Dean who remained leaning in the threshold of the kitchen.

"May i ...", he didn't finish, but Dean understood instantly.

"Sure. - Go.", the hunter said softly, watching the young man as he went into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Then he answered on Ellen's concerned look: "I'll check on him later. - Don't worry." Though his words it hurt a bit to not follow him into the other room right after. It hurt to see him like that, since Sam had made that much progress from the state he was in when they had found him.

* * *

Ellen had left a couple of hours ago, when Dean and Sam laid already in their double-bed. Sam snuggled into Dean's chest, clinging to him, while the hunter massaged his scalp, waiting for the low purr Sam had always made when he usually started to ease into the hunter's caressing. But there was no such thing. Sam still felt kind of tense in his arms and gone was somewhere else in his mind.

"Why did you lie to Ellen?", the hunter broke the silence and stopped massaging, looking down at Sam.

The male rubbed his nose against Dean's chest and pulled his arms between their bodies, as he wanted to try and protect himself. Wanted to create some kind of barrier between the hunter and himself.

"She doesn't have to know.", he answered quietly, his voice steady and affirmative. "No one has to know."

The hunter's eyes fluttered shut and he blew out a warm breath into Sam's hair, Waiting ...

"The things they did to us, Dean ..." Sam hesitated. "No real mother should know what happened to her kid." He let out a shuddering breath.

The hunter cupped the back of Sam's head in a protectively gesture and buried his fingers in the chestnut-brown hair.

"It wouldn't make her whole again. - It wouldn't have helped your friend if she knew." Sam continued more silently. "When i tried to protect them ..." his breath hiccupped.

Then a few seconds of silence followed.

"They took it out on me in front of the others. - So they'd know what would happen to them if they tried. - Then they just separated us.", Sams voice showed the first signs of deep sorrow and guilt. "Andy and Joanna ... They were just kids, Dean. - And _they_ didn't care."

"You were a kid too." The hunter frowned and buried his nose in Sam's soft hair, blowing out a warm breath.

Sam didn't respond to that. Deep down he knew he had been a child. But still – he felt guilty. Not just for what had happened in the demon's liar. For the things _he had done_ he felt guilty even more.

Dean didn't dare to say a single word, not even taking a deep breath. The younger male would've never talked about this part of his past before. - Not like this. So he listened, giving Sam a chance to tell his story ...

"It hurt. - So bad." Sam pressed tighter against the hunter, cradling Dean's pyjama shirt in his fists. His voice shook, his body started to tremble, as all the memories and the fear flooded back into his mind. "And they just ..." His voice broke. "Then it came. - And it wouldn't stop. _Ever_." Tears were already wetting Dean's shirt. "Abaddon was the worst of all of them. - _The worst_."

The hunter let out a silent sigh, instinctively tightening his grip on Sam and pressing him tighter against him. Aware that if he'd dare to use any more strength, he'd hurt him. The hunter's eyes started to sting with tears. It weren't Sam's words that caused this. It were the memories and events that remained unspoken. - The things that hurt the most. And though – Dean could nearly feel them. Sam's agony and fear flooded the room and made the air heavy and hard to breathe.

"I'm so afraid. - So afraid.", he sobbed between hiccups. "I don't want to go there anymore. - Please ... When they come for me – when they ... before they hurt you – before they can take me ..."

Dean didn't want to hear what he was going to say, because he already knew it.

Sam sniffed and blinked his tears away, before he looked up. Haunted eyes searching for Dean's gaze in the spare illuminated room. "Please end me ... please ..."

The hunter swallowed hard and a shaky sigh left his lips as a single tear left the corner of his eye. He tried to regain control over his feelings, his thoughts, his body. He couldn't let Sam see the fear he carried deep inside of loosing him. Dean had to be strong, had to show the kid that it was going to be alright.

"Sammy ..." Dean's voice broke. He wouldn't be able to do it. - Not if there was a chance to get Sam back. - of course just if the demons would be able to get a hand on them. - and just then. Because he wouldn't let them take Sam. _Ever_.

"I won't let that happen. - okay? I promised you i'd look out for ya'. That i'll take care of you." He couldn't believe that he was ever able to think that Sam was a _monster_. - Something that was wrong and dirty and filthy ... Something that deserved to die. He wasn't able to remember when his mind had changed completely and was running on protection-mode. He didn't know if the young man in his arms would ever understand what he was feeling for him. Nor if Sam would be able to reciprocate the way he felt.

"You know what i want?", he asked gently and dove with his gaze into glistening hazel-eyes. As no respond came he answered for Sam: "I _want_ you to get better. I _want_ you to sleep thru the nights without having nightmares. - I _want_ you to feel free." Dean's hand moved towards the younger male's jaw and tipped it up a little bit further. " _I want you_ , that you can be you, Sammy."

Sam blinked his tears away, holding onto the hunter's words like on a lifeline.

Dean placed a gentle kiss on the younger man's forehead. "I think we should get some sleep, okay? - And for tomorrow i thought, we should get outside for a little while. Check out the surroundings and lay out some traps. Maybe we'll catch a rabbit or something ..."

Sam closed his eyes and laid his ear on the tear-soaked fabric that covered the hunter's chest. "I don't want to kill anything.", he muttered, exhausted by the days events and things that had happened.

Dean chuckled. - Yeah this guy was damn _dangerous_. "Okay.", he just answered. "Then we'll just check out the woods."

* * *

It had started to snow during the night. - Big flakes of frozen water where swaying down in slow motion and gave them three inches more snow over night.

So it was. The both of them had breakfast. Sam had developed a favor for the sweet stuff like waffles and pancakes. So Dean would make him these instead of bacon and scrambled eggs or sausages and gravy or other things.

Later that morning they watched TV – Tom and Jerry to be straight. But it didn't bother Dean and Sam seemed to enjoy it. What let Dean think about all the things the young man wouldn't have been able to see and learn so far. So yeah, at some point he felt responsible to teach him things. What let him think about, since when Sam wasn't a job anymore ... Instead he had grown a _responsibility_. Maybe the young man had never been a job. And when he remembered back at the motel where they had cleaned him up and bandaged ... Sam had never _felt_ like a job.

Sam's eyes lit up and he chuckled lightly as the mouse hit the cat with a pancake-pan.

The hunter couldn't do anything else but chuckle and lough with him, watching the cutest dimples across gods earth grow.

* * *

It began then, when Sam's head rested in the hunters lab. He started to get restless, shifted forth and back ... Signs Dean knew all too well by now. Knew that whatever caused the pain in Sam's chest would give them both a hard time _again_.

The hunter laid a hand on Sam's head and looked down at him. "Shall i get your pills?", he asked with a deep frown spread over his forehead.

Sam shook his head. "They won't help."

Dean nodded. He knew they wouldn't, but the pills were the only thing he could do for him, besides holding him and guiding him thru it until it'd be over.

The younger man gripped the hoody right above his chest and screwed his eyes shut as a sudden wave of pain flooded thru the left half of his ribcage. The pain alone wasn't the worst – it was the feeling to suffocate, the feeling that he wasn't able to get enough air into his lungs, that let him panic easily.

Dean slid out under him and eased Sam's head on the couch, helping him to stretch out a little more and settle him on his back.

Sam's breathing changed short after. Short in and exhales left his lips. A thin layer of cool sweat built on his forehead. And Dean just kneeled beside him and was damned t o watch.

"Breathe, Sammy.", he whispered gently, a hand resting on Sam's chest where the pain seemed to have its offspring. "C'mon, breathe with me. - Nice and slow."

Dean tried. He really tried to guide him thru it. But every time it happened he felt like he failed miserably.

Sam clutched the hunter's hand and pressed it to his chest, squeezing it in his bigger once that it must've hurt. But Dean took it. He'd take all of it, as long as it made Sam better. As long as it helped him to get thru the seizure.

As the young male opened his eyes the next time, they were pitch-black, though filled with endless agony.

The hunter took a deep inhale. "In", then he exhaled slowly, "and out." It took them about twenty reruns before Sam was able to follow Dean's instructions and the pain started to ease. "That's it. - Nice and slow." Another twelve reruns and the pain was nearly gone and Sam's eyes started to flicker until big gorgeous hazel-eyes looked in Dean's direction.

"I'm sorry.", Sam whispered and eased his grip on the hunter's hand.

"It's okay. - Didn't hurt." He brushed gently over Sam's chest, noticing something wet under his palm, where his hand had rested.

Dean's forehead furrowed and creased in concern when he saw that the wetness was crimson red. - _Blood_.

He gazed at Sam's dark hoody. It wasn't much, just enough to soak thru the fabric. But enough to worry about if the blood came from what he thought it came.

Sam stared in shock at Dean's hand and then into the hunter's face.

"It's the tattoo ...", Sam breathed in stunned realization, as he shot a glance on Dean's hand. "Isn't it?" He caught Dean's gaze again, that was now _soaked_ in concern.

He looked aside for a brief second. "We'll figure it out, Sam.", he said finally and rose slowly. "I'll get something to patch you up. - Then i'll go out and see if i can get a signal on my phone from a higher point. - Calling Bobby for help."

Sam nodded and turned his face away from the hunter in shame. He knew this wasn't good. Whatever it was that caused the pain and drew the blood – it was demonic. It was bad.

* * *

_An abandoned warehouse, somewhere in the USA ..._

The red-haired woman shot a glance to the suited man to her left and looked back at the map in front of her. A satisfied grin spread over her face and blinked up from her long lashes. "We are close ...", she chuckled and added a lightly sigh. "Wherever he is. - I am sure he's not alone. He wouldn't have been able to flee on his own."

She leaned back in the black recliner and raised her index finger, drawing the suited demons attention. "Bring him in. - I want to know who's trying to hide my precious pet from me."

The man nodded and disappeared behind one of the doors, just to return a couple of minutes later again. Behind him two black-eyed bitches (Dean Winchester's words, not mine), who dragged a lifeless human form between them.

Reaching the table, they let go of the human male and the woman rose from her chair, taking a seat on the edge of the table. Sie tipped with her fingertips on the smooth surface beside her and grinned.

"Did the hunters notice anything?", she asked, watching the both closely.

"No, ma'am. - We replaced the corpse before they were able to burn them.", one of them answered.

"Very well. - I am proud of you both." She smiled reassuring. "I will reward the both of you."

The men grinned widely, eyes flashing black.

_... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 12 ~ Written in Snow **

Dean had wandered an hour until he had reached the elevation and truly he'd found a signal there. Bobby haven't found anything about the tattoo yet, but he promised to speed up with his research. He warned Dean to manipulate it, or to try to burn it out. In case it had to do with something supernatural it wouldn't help any or it even could kill Sam. Also Bobby guessed that it was a blood spell as of the sounds of it. And that was something the hunter didn't want to dare to believe.

Bobby promised him to instantly inform Ellen if he had something and that she'd get to them as soon as possible with the informations and with the needed supplies if necessary.

Further he had told Dean that he, Jim and Caleb had burned the bodies – just to be sure no one would ever find an evidence for a slaughter in or around Sioux Falls.

When the hunter returned to the house it was already past lunchtime. The way back had him taken half an hour longer than he had expected, since the cold was nagging at his body relentlessly. Though he wasn't able to shake the bad feeling off, that something unwanted was going on and he was just unable to find out what.

"I'm back!", he called out as he stepped over the doorstep and ran his fingers over the short spikes of his hair to brush the snowflakes off.

No respond. - What honestly didn't surprise him anyhow. The pleasant smell of bacon, cheese and burgers was sign enough that everything had to be alright.

The hunter slipped out of his jacket and threw it on the couch. He also slipped out of his boots before he went into the kitchen, where the luring smell came from.

Sam stood in front of the stove, clapping the meatloaves with a spatula like he wanted to beat them up for just being meatloaves. With the other hand he braced himself up on the cupboard. From where Dean stood it nearly looked like Sam had to support a part of his weight to stay on his feet.

"Smells awesome, kiddo.", Dean smiled and sniffed, rubbing his hands.

"I thought you might like burgers for lunch. - You haven't had them in some time ..." Sam sighed heavily. Then he turned around slowly with the spatula in his left hand, taking the hunter in closely.

"So ... Bobby doesn't know yet what this is about. - But he keeps diggin'." Dean tried to sound as carefree as possible.

Sam smiled warily and had to rip his gaze away from the hunter as he turned back towards the pan to turn the loaves upside down once more. Dean appeared beside him, feeling the urge to wrap an arm around the younger male's waist, but kept himself from giving into his urge. _This was never going to happen._

"Awesome.", Dean purred as he glared in awe at the pan and its ingredients. "Do we need anything else?" His gaze strolled over the prepared buns, catchup, sauce, salad and other things Sam obviously wanted to stuff into the buns.

Sam shook his head and took the pan from the stove, preparing the two burgers carefully. His hands were trembling a little bit, showing that he was nervous about what he did. The young male stole a curious glance at the hunter beside him. He couldn't tell what it was that made him feel the way he felt right now. Whenever Dean was close to him lately it felt different. It wasn't just the comfort and warmth of another body anymore. There was this tingling sensation in his stomach he haven't ever felt before and somehow it felt ... weird. But _good_. It felt so warm and comforting ... and ... Sam sighed audibly. That kind of feelings didn't make any sense at all – at least to him.

Dean stole a glance at Sam and placed his hand in between the younger man's shoulder blades, brushing with his thumb over the small area across his spine. "Table or couch?", Dean asked and looked at him, taking in the young man's features closely.

Sam's gaze flew up and he looked thru his long chestnut-brown bangs at the older man. "Couch?", he asked silently.

Dean nodded with a broad grin and took the two plates. Sam followed him to the couch and sat down a couple of inches away from the hunter, so he wasn't too far away from him, but he still wouldn't hurt his private area.

The hunter moaned in pleasure as he took the first bite, chewing it slowly. "Aww, Sammy – These are awesome."

The younger man smiled shyly. His cheeks blushed slightly at the praise. "Ellen showed me."

Dean's eyes widened and the half-chewed piece in his mound would've nearly gotten into the wrong tube. "What – Ellen gave you her receipt?"

Sam frowned slightly shocked. "Did I ... Did I do something _wrong_?" he swallowed hard, his eyes darkened and fear flickered across his face. " _No_ ", he breathed aghast. " ... i didn't want to ... i thought it's okay ...", he started babbling.

"No, no, no ... it's _completely_ okay, Sammy. - It's fine, honestly." He laid his hand on Sam's upper leg and squeezed it gently. "It's just – Ellen wouldn't even give Bobby the receipt and he's buggin' her since ages." The hunter chuckled amused. "Don't you worry. - You're save."

Sam nodded, tension visibly falling from him. "Are we going outside? Later?" He glared at the hunter questioning.

Dean frowned. "You up for it?" There swung concern in his voice.

The young male nodded. "I'd like to ..." His eyes filled with hope. "I haven't seen trees like these ever ..."

"Sure thing." Dean gave back and took another bite and another pleased moan fell from his lips. "Damn it – These are better than sex."

Sam smiled shyly as he laid the burger back on the plate. All appetite gone in an instant, though he knew that the hunter probably meant that the burgers were amazing. So he tried to keep his smile a little longer but he failed miserably. _He just couldn't_ ... the burgers shouldn't taste like that – shouldn't taste like something he was _afraid_ of.

* * *

Both of them were clothed and ready to go for a walk. Their dirty dishes left on the cupboard beside the sink. Two plates. A barely touched bacon-cheese-burger and a half eaten one, waiting for being disposed.

For a while they walked in silence. Sam brushed with his fingers over every conceivable surface that was there. Feeling the structures and tenderness of them. He made the impression as if he never had touched a tree's bark, nor evergreen ivy before. In fact it had been ages since he had last experienced a slow walk in broad daylight.

It had always been _hide or run_ for him. - All of this seemed so beautiful and amazing. The fresh air – he was able to literally smell the snow and the plants around him.

"It's beautiful.", he whispered to himself with a dreamy smile, while his fingertips ran over the bark of an old oak.

Dean stopped in his tracks and looked over at the man, smiling softly. Closing his vision around the bright green hazel-eyes that seemed to be even more intense in the light of day. And he had to remind himself instantly that he wasn't allowed to give into his growing feelings for Sam. _It was just wrong._

The hunter also realized that it wasn't a given to be able and see things like Sam did. The soultaker – in fact – looked like he was going to hug the tree anytime soon. That was when a glorious idea stroke him, and a sassy grin spread all over the hunter's face.

"Hey, Sam!", Dean called out and nearly in the same moment a snowball hit the younger man's upper arm, before he had a chance to look up.

He turned around bewildered and frowned while he watched Dean making a new one. The hunter grinned at him cheeky and cocked an eyebrow. "Ever had a snowball fight?"

Sam tilted his head to the side and narrowed his gaze. "No, but the other kids had.", he smiled at the memory. "It looked like fun ..."

"It _IS_ fun, Sammy." The hunter chuckled. "Wanna try?"

"I don't know Dean ...", he started to chew on his lower lip. "I could hit you ..."

Dean couldn't hold back a loud lough. "That's what it's all about. - You've to hit the other ones." he sniffed and held a snowball into the air, showing it to Sam and looking at him encouraging.

Sam's frown grew deeper and darkened his face with concern.

"You're allowed to hit me with a snowball, Sam." Dean sighed, a little bit frustrated. "You can't hurt anyone with a snowball.", he added explaining. "So ... what's it gonna be?"

Sam sniffed and nodded. "Okay. - I can try."

Dean's grin widened in growing anticipation.

First Sam seemed to not even try to hit him. His shots were unsecure and somehow hesitantly. But then ... with the growing count of hits by the hunter he got mightier. Both of them chased each other thru the woods, and soon the snowball fight turned into some kind of hide-and-seek where one another ambushed and tried to get the best hits.

None of them had watched the clock and dusk already started to settle over the land.

* * *

Dean braced his back against the oak's trunk, taking even breaths and listening for any suspicious noises. He strained his senses, turning the ball of snow in his left hand.

The hunter's grip tightened around the ball as he heard cracking wood to his left. His head snapped in the same direction where the noise had come from and in the very next second he found himself being lifted of the ground by something big. Dean lost his missile in surprise as he hit the soft cold surface. All air blown out of his lungs.

A heavy body pressed him into the snow. Though before his attacker was able to even try something else he rolled them both over so he was on top of the taller man. Both their breaths raged as Sam threw up his arms in surrender.

"Bad idea, Sammy.", Dean breathed with a cheeky grin, diving into mossy wide hazel-eyes.

Then there was just silence except their audible breaths. Even the crows seemed to join the silence for this precious moment.

The sinking sun and warming beams let Dean's eyes sparkle in a million different shades of green.

Caught in each others gaze Sam rose his and laid it on Dean's cheek. Stubbles caressing his palms as he did so and long fingers spread over it, shifting slightly.

Dean closed his eyes and with a shuddering exhale he leaned into the warming touch of icy fingers.

The hunter rolled to his side, taking Sam with him in slow motion until the both of them lay on their sides.

 _Oh god_ ... how good Sam's touch felt. The way the tingling feeling crawled under his skin and set emotions free he rarely had felt in his life.

As Dean opened his eyes again, Sam was smiling at him. Deep dimples curving his skin. A smile so bright it was able to light the darkest corner in his heart.

Sam had never felt like this. It felt so good, the small tingle that built up in his chest and stomach made his heart flutter. He wondered if Dean could feel it too, or if it was just him.

Dean's thumb brushed gently over Sam's tender lower lip, sending a wave of sparkling bubbles down his spine. The hunter's soft looking rose cushions now closer than seconds before.  
Sam let his hand where it was and let it be guided down, still resting on Dean's cheek as the older man ghosted with his lips over Sam's. Their cold noses brushed along each others as the hunter wrapped an arm around Sam's waist, tugging him closer.

The young man shivered and his eyes fluttered close.

Dean exhaled against Sam's slightly parted lips, before he settled his own cushions on his. First their lips barely met until the hunter pressed gently closer and started to move them as Sam mirrored his motions and kissed him back, sending another sparkling sensation all over Dean's skin and thru his body.

He felt Sam's hand move towards his neck, as he wanted to pull back. Something beyond his mind let him do and try to the next stage, as he asked for entrance when he licked over Sam's lower lip.

The younger man parted them as if he instinctively knew for what Dean had requested. So he let him in, letting the hunter's tongue map the insides of his mouth until it seemed to was his turn to do so.

Sam let himself be carried away and eased into the event, savoring every single moment of it until the lack of oxygen let them break apart.

Sam's fingers traced over Dean's forehead and soft dimples on the outer corner of his eye, down his cheek and rested on his yaw, before his fingers ghosted gently over the rose-colored cushions that were Dean's lips.

As he intended to place his searching lips again on the hunter's, Dean laid his and on Sam's ribcage to hold him at bay. What had he just done? He wasn't supposed to _seduce_ the kid – he was supposed to _protect_ him.  
"I'm sorry, Sam – I'm ... so sorry ...", he breathed aghast and frowned. Disgust rushing over his features as he pulled away. Away from Sam, away from this situation. Away before he'd make something worse.

Sam eyed him in confusion ... confusion that turned into fear, as the hunter wouldn't look at him again and just got up on his feet, where he brushed with a hand over his face and turned away.

"This ... we shouldn't ... ", the hunter's voice broke.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed ... _Oh God_ . _.. no no no no ..._

How the hell could he have let that happen? What had he done, damn it? - And Sam had just let him. - He had just let Dean kiss him, he even had kissed him back ... A fact that didn't matter to the hunter right now, since he was the one who was supposed to keep things together. Maybe Sam felt like he had to play along with him. Had to let him kiss him or worse. _Oh god_ ... Dean couldn't believe he just had done _THIS_. He had _sworn_ to himself he wouldn't, no matter how he felt about Sam.

The younger man leaned back and eyed Dean closely, not understanding what just had happened. How something wet and slippery like a tongue in his mouth (what he had imagined that it should've been disgusting) actually could feel that good.

"We should head back.", Dean tore him out from his thoughts as he looked aside.

Neither of them lost a word on their way back. Sam stole glances at the hunter, but Dean wouldn't look at him. He just stared ahead ... obviously sunken in thoughts and an unreadable expression written all over his face.

Probably he was disgusted about what they had done. Because Sam was still a monster, wasn't he? With this realization, shame crawled into his mind and let his body shake. The younger man backed away from the hunter unconsciously. Brining some more space between him and Dean, as he fell back a couple of footfalls.

Somehow he felt as he got stabbed in the guts. Somehow it hurt, that Dean wouldn't look at him, that he didn't even talk to him. Usually he was at least trying to make jokes, or get him to talk, but no such thing. Something had changed between them – rapidly. Had it been that bad? Sure, Sam had never kissed anyone before ... but ... he had just been stupid enough to think that the hunter maybe could've felt similar like him. At least he had hoped so, since these feelings had felt good somehow. They were overwhelming and ... amazing and he just couldn't find the right words for THAT. And now? Now he felt as if his heart got shattered into a million pieces.

As they reached the house, Dean went in first, not waiting for Sam to enter, before he kicked his boots off and threw his jacket on the small chair beside the door. Without a word, nor a glance he raced for the bathroom and moments later Sam heard the bathroom door lock.

The young man just stood there for a long time. His mind blanc, his body trembling and cold from the melting snow on his clothes and his raw nerves.

Suddenly he felt all _alone_ again ... and _lost_.

_... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 13 ~ Live and let Die **

The rest of the day went on slow. Sam tried to hide in the kitchen as soon as he heard the bathroom door open. He kept himself busy with cleaning the dishes and a couple of shelves they hadn't dusted yet. And Dean Winchester? He didn't enter the kitchen. He withdrew into the bedroom, starting to strip his guns and clean his weapons. Something he always did when he had to think about things.  
Thinking what he was supposed to do now. How he could probably make it undone. How the hunter was supposed to act now. How he was supposed to let Sam feel save without the damn cuddling and snuggling stuff. Because fact was, that he couldn't sleep in the same bed with him anymore. They couldn't keep doing what they were doing ... Not like this. Not ever. Couples did stuff like this. Damn, he wasn't even sure if couple were as close as the both of them were.

When he was done and had put his taurus back together again, he was still in thoughts.  
Anyways ... The house had fallen silent. No chattering of dishes anymore, no footfalls, no TV. Dean frowned concerned and laid the taurus down, slowly rising from the bed. When he emerged from the bedroom he sneaked thru the livingroom inside the kitchen.

_Empty._

The first wave of panic and doubts about his behaviour rose inside him.

As he turned around – ready to grasp his jacket and shoes he stilled - his gaze flew on the couch, where Sam lay curled up and fast asleep. A messed up blanket lay on the floor between couch and table.  
A soft smile spread over the hunter's face, but as soon as he caught himself thinking about how adorable Sam looked like when he slept, and felt the rising warmth inside him, he steeled his features again ... _It was wrong_ ... _How in hell could something that felt that good be so wrong?_

Dean went over to the couch – nontheless – and picked up the blanket. Then he gently covered Sam with it and tugged it around him, so he wouldn't lose it again that easy.

"Good Night, Sammy.", he whispered, standing his urge to brush a chestnut-brown bang from the younger man's forehead.

* * *

They sat on the couch after breakfast. Dean had turned on the TV, so Sam had settled there too. The man had been too calm. Too serious. Sam had tried to get Dean's attention, when he had reached for the hunter's plate. When his hand brushed over his, Dean had just tensed. He didn't look at him, didn't say anything. Not even a _thank_ _you_.

 _Now_ ... now Sam was stealing glances at Dean. Longing looks ghosting over Dean's body. But he wouldn't look back at him. The hunter just sat there – unmoved, his face blanc and his eyes emotionless.

Sam wasn't used to Dean's behaviour. It made him insecure and _afraid_. Not that he thought the hunter would hurt him ... _afraid_ that he didn't want to keep him. Though Sam wanted to know what he had made wrong, somehow. And it had taken Sam's whole mental strength to do and try what he was going to do next.  
He inched closer every now and then, until their shoulders were nearly touching. Then Sam stood put, thinking about all the positives and negatives that could happen later ... He glared at the TV as he slowly lowered his head, wanting to rest it on Dean's shoulder.

But before he had even made contact, the hunter's body went rigid. "Sam.", the hunter said calm but firmly. "Don't." His voice was so distant and cold, it cut right thru Sam's chest, piercing his heart right where it hurt the most.

Sam froze. Then slowly withdrew again. He just wanted to run. Run away and never come back, because it hurt. It was like rabid dogs were trying to rip his body apart and he couldn't fight it, couldn't stop it.

Somehow he couldn't run away though, even when it seemed that Dean didn't like him anymore ...

Tears started to sting in his eyes and he sniffed silently. After a while – none of them both giving attention to the sexuality of tigers – Sam's legs slid from the couch.

_Not unnoticed by Dean._

Sam stood up, swallowing a sob. His hands shaking already. - _Oh god_ , he was disgusting – _Dean_ _was disgusted_ ... He couldn't stay with the hunter in here. Not right now. – He had to get out before it'd suffocate him.

_Dean watched him from the corners of his eyes._

The young man walked to the chair and picked his black jacket up. He eyed it for a moment, before he pulled it on. - Dean had bought it for him ... somehow he felt like he didn't deserve it anymore ... though he knew he'd need it, when he wanted to go outside. Then he slowly – like he tried not to rise the hunter's attention – he slipped into the leather sneakers, swallowing another sob.

_Heard by Dean._

It was when Sam reached for the handle of the front door, when he stopped abruptly.

"Where do you tink you're going?" Too sharp, too filled with anger, but it had left the hunter's mouth before he was able to stop himself.

Sam gazed at him. Eyes wide and filled with bottomless sadness.

Dean still didn't look at him.

"Porch...", Sam whispered – his voice raw and vulnerable.

As no respond came, no sign that Dean cared, he just left.

Finally Dean heard the door close and he released a breath he didn't knew he was holding. The hunter closed his eyes for a long second and as he opened them again, they where shining with tears.  
He knew it hurt – both of them. But it had to be that way. Sam might didn't know how wrong this was, but the hunter did. What seemed to be a seek of comfort by Sam, was way more for the hunter.

Sam'd get over it. Cope with the new situation after a couple of days. The both of them would. And soon they wouldn't even remember their shared event anymore.

* * *

The next couple of days weren't improving. Sam was withdrawing. Dean showed no signs of emotions except he was on his own.

The younger male's appetite was fading slowly and Dean told himself that it'd get better anytime soon. They didn't share the bed anymore. Not even the bedroom itself. Dean had left it to Sam where he wanted to sleep. Couch or bed ... Sam had chosen the floor. They wouldn't come close each other anymore and it hurt Sam like hell. It didn't hurt Dean any less. He just kept telling himself that they just needed time – That Sam needed time to get over it (whatever it had been).

The hunter pushed him away – violently – everytime Sam tried to come near him, talk to him ... he just kept pushing. Until he didn't try anymore. Actually after another couple of days, Sam was starting to avoid the hunter.

A fact also Ellen had recognized pretty soon, as she came by. Sam wasn't there when she entered the cabin and Dean was working on their lunch in the kitchen. The whole atmosphere in the house was strained.

Ellen shuffled into the kitchen with two big paper-bags, filled with groceries for the next couple of days.

"Where's Sam?", she asked, trying to catch her breath, as she placed the bags on the cupboard beside the stove.

"Asleep.", Dean answered casually.

Ellen nodded. "Why don't you tell me what's going on between the both of you?", she asked, narrowing her gaze at the hunter and frowned deeply. Last time she had visited the both of them were at least sitting on the same couch. Though not tangled into each other like usual, but still ... and now? Now he had the slightly feeling that she had to worry.

"Cabin fever maybe.", the hunter answered and stirred in the pot with the ravioli.

"Sam's avoiding you. - And you're avoiding Sam. So don't lie to me, Winchester. - I know there's something going on ..." She watched the younger man's features closely, but didn't find anything suspicious.

"Non of your business.", Dean answered coldly and looked up.

Ellen's eyes widened in surprise. "Hell no, it ain't, boy. - But I see that something's going on here.", she paced him with his eyes. "And I won't back off until I know."

Yeah, one of the biggest mother hens Dean knew was Ellen Harvelle.

The hunter exhaled audibly and shook his head, not believing that he'd tell her what she wanted to know. "We had some sort of a fight."

The huntress rolled her eyes. "A fight? - Honestly?" She went to Dean's other side and glared into the pot. "Well ... don't look like ravioli anymore, Son. - Do have more of something like ... mush ..." She cocked an eyebrow. "What was the fight about?"

Dean sighed. "Ellen ...", he said threatening. "Non of your business."  
"You know you both would make a cute couple, don't ya?", she took the spoon out of Dean's hand and tugged the hunter to the side, putting the pot from the stove, while she eyed him knowing.

"Ellen.", his voice rose. "I told you it's non of your business."

The woman nodded and a sad sigh fell from her lips. "I hope you won't regret it later, Dean ...", she added, watching him closely. The hurt expression written on the man's face, that nearly broke her heart.

"You stay for lunch?", Dean asked and looked at her.

The woman shook her head, a sad smile plastering her face. "No. - As much as i'd like to ... the roadhouse's waiting for me. - See ya' in a couple of days." She said, her look darting around in the kitchen. "And Winchester: It's time you get ya' head out of ya' ass."

Dean just nodded. What did she knew about all of this mess? - Nothing ... though, when had Ellen ever been wrong?

After the past couple of days ... and the way Sam was acting, Dean had started to doubt his decision at some point. He couldn't stand the feeling, that Sam wouldn't even try to make physical contact anymore.

On the other hand: What else had he expected?

* * *

_Another few days passed ..._

Sam hadn't touched his breakfast again. Waffles with apple sauce. - Dean had made them specially for him. Trying to show that he still cared – it was a rotten try of an excuse anyhow. And the hunter knew it.

"Sam ... you haven't eaten in days." The hunters voice far too cold, too uncaring ...

Sam blinked up and shook his head. "Thanks." His vocal cords raw from not talking for days now.

"Fine." Dean hissed and yanked the plate away, throwing it with the waffles into the wastepaper basket ... though not one of his brightest moments.

The younger male flinched. "I don't ... I don't understand ..."

Dean's jaw moved and tensed. "What? - What's so hard not to understand?", he asked, laying all his despair, anger and rage against himself into his words.

"I like you." Sam just stuttered silently, as these words were supposed to explain everything at once.

Dean turned around and stared daggers at him. "Well. - But I don't like you." He had not even ended what he had said as he started to regret his words.

A cold threatening shiver ran over Sam's spine. He nodded. And because the hunter's words didn't seem to reach out, he added: "How could I? - You're a _monster_. - I'm a hunter, Sam."

He knew this must've hurt enough to let Sam understand that it wouldn't work – to make clear that Dean wasn't able to move on like this. That he couldn't. Couldn't bare the fact that Sam was so unbelievable close and that he wasn't allowed to touch the younger man's lips, to _kiss_ him again, _feel_ him again.

Sam's shoulders shook. It looked like he was shattering apart right in front of him.

"It was _wrong_ , Sam. - It was a _failure_. - You've to understand that we should've _never_ kissed."

Sam trembled. ... He didn't understand how Dean's words could possibly hurt him that bad. ... And that was when he made up his mind and came to a conclusion ...

SPN ~

Sam heard as the hunter left the kitchen. Heavy aggressive footfalls. The rustling of clothes, as Dean slipped into his leather jacket. The clanking of metal, as he snatched the Impala's keys from the table in the living-room.

He just couldn't stay with Sam. He couldn't stay with him in one room, not even in the same damn house. Beside that he regretted what he had said, it should've been enough to make his point clear. - And he knew he had damaged whatever they have had. Damaged enough so the both of them would finally understand that they couldn't be as close as they had been in the past.

Not because Sam was a monster and Dean a hunter. Because he still thought that it was better that way. That the kid would never be able to understand what love would be like, what it meant to be with someone together ... like ... _together together_ ... So didn't Ellen. How could she even know what it was like to be with a guy like Sam? How was she able to tell that he wasn't making a mistake? Hell, he'd molesting the boy ... He'd feel like someone taking advantage of Sam.

After he had brushed most of the snow from the Impala's hood and trunk, he drove off. Just drove wherever the road would take him. And the longer he drove, the clearer the road got, the more of freedom he started to feel again. And for some time of his time being it felt good. - Until he looked at the empty passenger's seat beside him ...

* * *

_somewhere, two hours away, in the next town, in an irish pub ..._

Dean chuckled and gave his brightest smile, before he sipped on his bourbon again and looked up into big blue-gray eyes. This woman was just breathtaking, drop dead gorgeous beautiful ... she must've been an angel ...

"And what about you?", he asked, his voice husky and seductive. The hunter bit his lower lip, guiding his look at the full red cushions of the woman beside him. "What's a pretty girl like you doing in a pub like this?"

The red-haired woman smiled, showing her white teeth. "This and that. - I'm a drifter, just like you."

When she had entered the bar all looks had been on her. All of them, just Dean's weren't. He was too sunken in thoughts and his booze to even realize any pretty girls at the pub, two hours away from the house in the woods, where he had left Sam behind. Just as she sat down beside him and a gentle nudge into his side ripped him out of his thoughts, he looked up and streight into her amazingly blue-grey eyes. She wore tight leather gear and a biker jacket, though she didn't seem like a girl who rode bikes. She was just breath-taking, and so damn much Dean Winchester's type.

"And towards what are you drifting right now?", he asked, cocking an eyebrow and caught her gaze in the dim light.

It was her time to chuckle. - So shy and unbelievable pretty, as she lowered her gaze and laid her hand over Dean's. She sighed pensively and bit her lower lip before she looked back up. More serious and somehow searching for something on his face.

"What I'm looking for is ... You." She smiled, tightening the grip on his hand. "I'm looking for Dean Winchester." Her features became sharp. "I'd love to make a deal with you."

That was when her eyes flashed black for a split second. Just for Dean. Just so he could see who she really was.

_... to be continued_

* * *

** Fall of Darkness **

** Chapter 14 ~ Crimson Red **

Now that he knew who he was dealing with, Dean's features turned from _flirty-sexy-hunter_ into _i'll-give-you-hell-bitch_ under five seconds.

"You've something that belongs to me, Winchester.", she said smiling, not letting go of his hand.

"I don't know what you're talking about, bitch." The hunter stared daggers at her. All attempts to get her flat against the wall behind the pub gone.

"I want my pet back." The woman sighed and steeled her facial expressions. "You give it back and I'll let you walk out of here _unharmed_." She grinned coldly. "And as a bonus i'll give you another soultaker in exchange."

Dean huffed and shook his head in disbelieve. "What if i don't want another one? - What if I'd tell you to suck it up and back off before i rip ya' hosts throat out?" he grinned cheeky and raised an eyebrow to underline his words.

She laughed and petted his hand. "Just like your daddy, ain't you?"

Dean's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightened. He hated it to be compared to his old man. He had been a bastard in some ways. Though John had done what he had to. John had been hard but fair to him. He had taught him how to hunt these bitches, how to kill them and how to avoid of being possessed by one. He also had taught him how to get out of hairy situations like this.

That was when chairs scraped over the wooden floor and at least ten pairs of black eyes stared in his direction.

They probably thought he wouldn't be able to handle a dozen of them by his own with just his gun, a demon-killing-knife and a pair of hands.

"You should watch your mouth. - don't even think about calling me something else but Ma'am. - My legion won't like it. - Me? I don't care what you call me." She took a sip of her appleteeny, raising her finger towards the barkeeper. "To be honest ... i love dominating men ..."

"I won't tell you where he is.", Dean stated, just to give away what he wanted to point out anyway. "Neither I'd hand him over."

The red-haired woman's lips curled down and she nodded impressed. "Wow. - Someone shows backbone." She emptied her glass slowly. "Well then i guess ... I've to just take him. - The kid is important to me, you know? - He's special. He's one of the rare ones. AND he's mine." Then she smiled satisfied as the bartender placed another appleteeny in front of her. "Besides ... you surely noticed these bad heartaches he has, don't you?", she asked and pulled a cherry from the stick with her teeth.

Dean swallowed hard, watching her as she chewed the cherry slowly.

"It's a tracking spell ... and right now? ... Well, right now my guys are gonna get him." Abaddon exhaled audibly.

"If your men would get him right now ... you wouldn't be chatting with me in an irish pub and talking about making a deal with me." Dean stated, taking her face in closely. Looking for any suspicious motions.

"Good one, Winchester.", the demon chuckled and threw the right leg over her left. "You got me there. - To be honest ... i knew you wouldn't agree to the deal. - Though i hoped i could get rid of you, without tearing your ... handsome body apart ..."

Dean emptied his glass with a big gulp and smacked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. "Means we're done?"

"Not completely." She slid from the stool and petted Dean's shoulder. "You know you won't get out of here alive, do you?"

* * *

Sam laid the pen aside and took a deep breath. Then he rose slowly and put the sneakers he had gotten from Dean – on his side of the bed, placing a sheet of paper over them. Then he exhaled audibly.

He didn't want the hunter to get in danger. Nor his friends. Enough people had died because of him and it had to end. Here and now. Dean might didn't like him, saw him as a monster ... though he had given so much to him. Had showed him what life he could have had if he wasn't who and what he was. So yeah. He'd take off. Would run and try to get thru on his own or die while trying. The thought of being without the hunter hurt at first ... but then ... then he felt a calm feeling filling his aching chest. And no, it wasn't because of the blood that started to seep thru it.

The young man tried and take a deep breath, though he knew it wouldn't work. He also knew he had to go now. Better sooner than later.

Better before the black-eyed monsters would get him right there, where Dean could show up any time soon.

Actually he wasn't mad at the hunter. Not at all. Sure he was disappointed and sad. But a part of him loved him still. And the part that loved him yelled at him to run. Yelled at him to get as far away from Dean as possible.

And for the part of him that was sad and disappointed ... this part wanted to run because Dean had hurt him. Hurt his feelings and he hadn't understood earlier why. He should've known that it was because they weren't of the same kind. And no matter how bad he wished he was human, and would've met Dean under usual circumstances, he couldn't change how it was now.

So yes ... he had to go. Had to leave.

That was when he started to feel a change in the air. - Something he wouldn't have recognized thru the haze of pain usually, but it was there. _THEY_ were there – or at least _close_.

Sam swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a second. This would be the last time in his life he'd kill someone. The last time he'd run from them. Because sure as hell he wouldn't go back into their liar. He also wouldn't keep running all his pathetic life from them.

So he'd man up and fight his fight. And that was when he started to run ...

* * *

Dean's gun went off again, just so the bullet hit its target a split second later. The demon's host froze, gripping it's chest in a mix of surprise and horror written all over its face.

What a blessing that Dean had taken the clips with his self-made pentagram-bullets. He wasn't able to kill them with this kind of ammo, but he could buy himself some time.

He had been an ass. An unbelievable dick. Had left the one person he loved more than anything all on his own – completely unprotected. And worse: He had hurt him in ways he couldn't name yet, before. Had hurt him like _just he_ had been able to. If he would've put a bullet into Sam's head it'd had been more kind.

He regretted everything, right there, fighting for his own life and Sam's. He should've tried and give them a chance. Should've pulled his head out of his ass and stood to his feelings. He could've showed Sam what it meant to be in love with someone instead of giving up and being selfish about it. Hells yeah, he had been selfish. Dean didn't want to put himself thru something emotional that could've hurt him in case Sam wouldn't have understood what it meant to have a boyfriend. He had rather tried to protect himself instead of Sam.

Why it had come to him just there, in the bar, with the demon by his side – he didn't know. But he knew that he should've acted different. Instead he had hurt Sam. And he'd punish himself for it as soon as they would be save again.

When the whole mess in the pub had started, Abaddon had just vanished before the hunter was able to land a hit on her. Before he was able to nail her down with one of his praised bullets, she had vanished into thin air.

* * *

_one hour and twenty-seven minutes later ..._

Dean slammed into the breaks as he pulled up in front of the cabin. He already had targeted the open front door before the Impala got to a hold. The car had barely stopped, as he jumped out of it, facing the cabin's porch.

That was when he saw a body, spread over the doorstep, and driblets of blood on the steps and in the snow before it.

"SAM!", he yelled, aiming with his Taurus, knowing that there wasn't a single bullet left in his magazine, that'd been able to nail a demon. "Sammy!", he cried out again. This time more panic in his voice – more of all the feelings he had pushed away.

He took the steps on the porch at once, nearly stumbling over the dead man's body on the ground, into the cabin. " _SAM_!", he yelled again, well knowing that he wouldn't find him in there.

Dean went streight into the bedroom, fell on his knees beside the bed and grabbed under it, finding in an instant what he was looking for. - A little wooden box. He laid it onto the mattress and snapped it open, as his gaze fell on a sheet of paper, that covered a pair of shoes. _Sam's shoes._ \- The brown leather-sneakers he had bought for him. The first thing Sam had gotten from him. That had made Sam's eyes bright and his face lighting up.

The first time he had seen him smile, and the first time he recognized the amazing colors of his eyes.

The hunter picked the sheet of paper and rose to his feet, gazing at it in disbelieve. Though his instincts told him not to. He didn't have time for that right now ... but then again ...

Dean shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans and his attention wandered back to the box. It's content were clips for his Taurus. Silver bullets, once filled with rocksalt and others with engraved pentagrams. He took the two clips with the engraved bullets. One inserting into his gun, the other one into the pocket of his jacket. Then he left again.

On the foot of the porch he stopped, looking at the small red drops that showed a trail into the woods, underneath them footprints that easily would fit on Sam's giant feet.

Dean cursed silently to himself before he switched his mind and body into hunter's mode. This was a job. _Right_? Saving an innocent. _Right_? Killing demons or at least paralyse them. _Right_?

 **Right**.

The crimson red stains in forms of small circles stood out under the smooth white of the snow. The more bloodstains and the more the footprints blurred, the faster the hunter dashed thru the woods, his weapon drawn, ready to aim and shoot at whatever would get into his way.

No, this wasn't just a job. - This was _Sam_. **His Sam**. And he prayed to god that he'd be able to clean up the mess he had caused. That he'd be allowed to tell him that he didn't mean it. That he'd get the chance and make it up to him again.

He passed the fourth empty host on his path, as the bloodstains seemed to get bigger, sunken deeper into the snow, what meant that the one whose blood it was was loosing even more of it. And Dean Winchester prayed. _Damn_ he prayed that it wasn't Sam's.

A couple of yards further, the hunter stopped in his tracks. There was even more blood and messed up snow. Sam must've fallen, he must've fought.

The hunter closed his eyes, straining his senses. There was a noise ... a noise that let the blood in his veins freeze.

" _Sam_.", he breathed, his exhale vaporizing in the cool air.

A moment later he broke into a sprint. Racing. Panting. He heard his own blood rustle in his ears.

He stumbled and got back to his feet. He had to get there. Get there before it was too late.

Four long strides later he stood on the outskirts of a giant clearing. Empty hosts paved it. And in the middle of all the death and agony stood a young man.

Swaying.

Wearing nothing more but jeans and a dark shirt.

His hands covered in blood.

Wet moisture was glistening in the bright winter-sun on his shirt.

It was his own blood.

Sam's blood.

Four men circled him. With a gesture of his hand, that looked like he tried to rip something out of thin air, one of the men crumbled to the ground.

Dean caught his breath. Sam tumbled. - He wouldn't be able to finish this. Wouldn't be able to take the last three out on his own. Not after he had fought a about two dozens of them. Not when he had lost that much blood. Not in the state he was in.

One of the men longed for Sam.

That was when a shot was heard and the man froze in his tracks as soon as the bullet had found his destination.

Three pairs of eyes snapped towards the hunter, who calmly took one step after another towards the three remaining men with his aimed gun. The hunter tried to focus on the demons. Tried not to let his gaze or mind stroll away from them. Tried so hard not to look at Sam, who seemed like he was barely holding his weight on his feet.

One of the black-eyed bitches broke into a run towards the hunter, on whose face a knowing smile lit up. And as he pulled the trigger ... he wouldn't let be moved. No shot. No bullet leaving the barrel. No bullet ripping into the flesh of his target.

He cursed.

Tried to stay calm.

The Taurus had a Jamming.

" _No no no no ... shit._ ", and another couple of curses fell from his lips, as the clip wouldn't slide out of the shaft.

* * *

Sam watched in horror, as the demon took Dean down. His gaze instantly snapped back at the one before him. The cheeky grin on the monsters face lit up, as Sam grabbed something invisible before him, knowing that he was loosing his strength faster now. That Abaddon's pet probably wasn't able to expel him, or whatever he was doing with the demonic essences.

But he did it. It might take him a couple of seconds longer, but he did it.

* * *

Dean fought. But the bitch was faster. Stronger. Not human. He fumbled in frenzy for his knife on the insides of his jacket, while the demon tried to prevent him from it. But the hunter won the overhand, as he snapped his arm back.

Sadly the demon was faster ... and stronger.

The black-eyed monster rolled them both over, four hands on one knife.

And then ... then there was this moment where complete silence remained. The moment the hunter's and the demon's eyes went wide. And Dean waited. Waited for the red-orange flickers that usually lightened the hosts bodies, when he drove it into their flesh.

And that was when he felt a burning sensation flooding his ribcage and short after a searing pain continued to pulse and spread over his whole torso.

A split second later something grabbed the demon. Dean saw it struggling, saw it tossing with his arms, gripping to its throat.

And then there was another moment of silence and he looked down on himself. Right under his solar plexus he saw the shaft of his knife standing out of his body. Red slick liquid soaking fast thru the fabric of his three layers of shirts. Then there was this feeling of not getting enough air. Of dizziness and an itchy feeling in his throat.

He coughed.

Tiny little crimson-red stains sprinkled over the pale skin of his face. His lips covered in a darker nuance of red.

Two hazel-eyes appeared over him. Their expression telling him everything he needed to know. Dean was dying. He was dying right here and now and there wouldn't be a way to make it up again to Sam.

The eyes above him closed for a moment, and as they opened again they were black.

Dean had wanted to tell him so much. Had wanted to explain his messy behaviour to Sam. And now it was too late.

He felt a warm hand on his cheek, sending a millions of sparkles all over his skin. The younger man's lips moved, but Dean didn't hear him anymore. His senses faded. Faded too fast. And he knew he had just a couple of minutes left until everything would be over. Minutes until Sam would be left all on his own in a cold world with cruel monsters and even more cruel humans.

"It's okay Dean.", Sam whispered, his eyes stinging with tears. "I'm gonna make it alright again, okay?" He sighed and his gaze wandered to the knife's shaft, curling his long fingers around it. "It's going to hurt." Sam looked back up into fading emerald-green eyes.

The pain in his chest started to ease already. The presence of demons gone since he had killed the last one. The dizziness, headache and his loss of blood stayed though. The feeling of weakness and fighting the daring unconsciousness wouldn't go away either. He knew he had to be fast. He had to do it now.

The hunter didn't deserve to die. Dean didn't deserve to die. The world was a better place with him. It would be parished cruelty without Dean Winchester and his kind. And because he loved him. Dean might not wanted him anymore. He might not cared anymore. But though ... he deserved better than this.

So he did it. He laid his hand on Dean's cheek and the other one on the now violently bleeding wound.

Seconds later his body and mind gave out on him, and he tipped to the side. Sam's blood mixed with Deans. Coloring the snow in a deep red. The last moments, that he was able to realize were _Dean_. The hunter calling his name weakly ... petting his back, strong hands gripping him and turning him around.

Sam just hoped that he had done enough. That it reached out to save him, before the darkness was able to pull him down into unknown realms ...

* * *

Dean Winchester coughed and sucked in a wheezing breath. Coughing again and spitting reddish saliva into the snow.

"Sam.", he whispered, trying desperately to take a deeper breath.

The hunter rolled over on his left side, where he saw what his mind was longing for. Sam's eyes were closed, his cheeks blushed and his lips slightly blue.

"No, please don't", he muttered as he sat up and laid a hand on the younger man's back, to feel a slight rise and fall beneath his palm. "Sam.", he repeated and narrowed his gaze. "Sammy, _please_.", he said unconsciously, as he got on his knees.

Dean rolled him on his back, limp arms sliding down and falling into the snow, as he pulled him into his lab. "You stupid ... little ...", he whispered and sighed, laying a hand on the man's cheek, leaving a bloody print from his hand, as he brushed over his jaw. Tears gathered in his eyes relentlessly. There was no way of holding them back anymore. "You saved my sorry ass ... for what I've done to you ..." He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. Trying to clear his mind, his thoughts.

He had to get Sam back to the cabin first. Had to check on his injuries, had to see if it was just the tattoo where all the blood came from.

He gathered Sam into his arms and held him close against his chest.

That was when he heard a rustling noise, coming from the woods ...

_... to be continued_

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 15 ~ Healing You **

Dean gathered the young man in his arms, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. So soft and gentle, as if a single rash touch could break him apart. „It's going to be okay, Sammy. - I swear. I'll take care of you. I'm gonna make it up to you somehow. - Please … just … just don't give up on me.", he babbled whispering, trying to get a response from Sam.

But nothing happened.

The hunter rose – with Sam in his arms – to his feet and groaned under the weight that strained his muscles. „It's going to be okay, you'll see.", he whispered panting and made his first step towards the clearing's skirting.

He knew he wouldn't be able to carry Sam all the way back to the cabin. Though the young man wasn't as heavy as he should've been, though he was still too heavy to carry him that far. But he'd try.

Two dark shapes appeared on the skirting before the hunter, and he stopped in his tracks for a moment, until he realized them.

„Dean?!", a male gruff voice yelled.

„Bobby!", Dean cried back and tugged Sam closer, shifting him a little bit to tighten his grip on him. „See, our backup's here.", he whispered gently. He wouldn't have thought that they were able to make it to the house that fast. It had been barely three hours, maybe three and a half since he had called Ellen.

Sam's head lolled into the crook of the hunters neck and shoulder. Feeling the wetness of cold sweat against his neck. „You gotta hang on, Sam."

Not that he would've awaited a respond. - Hell, he'd be surprised if Sam wouldn't freak out right there if he would wake up in his arms. Not after he had treated the young man like … like a _monster_ … like a _hunter's pet_.

Dean went on, strolling towards the two figures, that had broken into a run. Dean gave them both a relieved smile as they stopped before them. Ellen narrowed and brushed a bang of hair out of his pale face, taking him in closely. Her look searching the young man's form.

„It's a tracking spell.", Dean gasped. „Please tell me you guys know how to break or reverse it?"

Ellen looked up, meeting a pair of desperate emerald-green orbs. „Not now.", she said, her gaze narrowing.

„We gotta get ya' both outta here. - Like yesterday.", Bobby swung his sawed off into his other hand. „We've prepaired everything, so don't you worry. - Jim got a pet-doc for our little friend here."

He stared curious at the older hunter. „Bobby – i don't think ..."

„She's okay, trust me. - Jim knows her, we can trust her.", Bobby cut him up, as his look flew over the young man in Dean's arms. „We've managed everything. - Lets go."

„Where are we headin'?", Dean asked as they started their way thru the woods, and as Bobby – who walked in front of them – led them into another direction as the cabin was.

„Home.", Bobby answered, shooting a worried glance over his shoulder.

Ellen – who was their rear cover – glanced past Dean and caught the older man's gaze.

Dean just nodded and focused on not loosing his grip on Sam. Not letting him fall – _again_. He already had hurt him too much – even when it were just words. And he had done it because he knew he was able to hurt him that way. Somehow the hunter felt like he had betrayed Sam. He had knowingly hurt him.

After about half an hour they ended up on a byroad. A couple of yards down – where they broke out of the woods – stood a pick-up-truck with a giant cargo area and a roofing.

The last few yards towards the truck were pure torture for Dean. Since about the time he had picked Sam up, his muscles felt like they'd tear anytime soon. Including he felt exhausted and ready to pass out anytime soon.

As they reached the loading area of the truck, the both older hunters flapped the hatchback down. Bobby crawled in and took Sam's shoulders, easing him from Dean's firm grip, while Ellen took the younger man's feet. Together they placed him on a makeshift bed, made of a mattress and a worn out bedding.

Dean rolled his head and shoulders to let his muscles relax a little before he crawled on the mattress beside Sam.

The both hunters jumped off, when Dean pulled the bedding over Sam and himself, to get him warmed up a little bit. „There we go, Sammy.", he whispered gently, and brushed over his jaw, inching a little bit closer, until their bodies met.

„We ready?", Ellen asked as she closed the hatchback.

The youngest of the hunters gave her a grateful look and nodded.

She nodded back and gave him a week smile before she took her place in the passenger's seat on the front.

Dean tugged the bedding over them both, ignoring the fact that it wasn't big enough to cover them both completely. The main thing was that Sam was safe. That he was warm. Not the bastard beside him, whose fault this whole situation was. The hunter rested his head on the pillow beside Sam's and laid a hand over the younger man's waist under the bedding. „We're going to warm you up. - Patch you up. - We're going to get you back on your feet, break the damn spell and kill the demon-bitch before she can try anything else."

He felt so cold. So damn cold. His skin was pale and his breaths too shallow. Too weak. He didn't want to think about what the ganking-demons and healing-trip may could cost Sam. May had already cost him. He'd never forgive himself if he'd die. If he'd lose him.

Sam seemed to wake just once for a couple of seconds. His eyes were on half-mast, and though Dean had tried to get his attention. Fruitless. Sam was gone again before he was even able to realize who he was. Where he was. What had happened.

The hunter whispered soothing words into Sam's ear, when his breathing increased and ended up as shallow gasps for oxygen.

* * *

_A bunch of hours later, South Dakota, Sioux Falls, The Salvage …._

When they arrived on the Salvage, Jim, Caleb and a foreign woman were already waiting for them on the porch.

Dean snuggled closer to Sam's motionless body, who was now warmed up again – at least a bit. „We're here, Sam.", he whispered into Sam's ear and closed his eyes for a second. His hand rested on the younger man's stomach, where he felt every single weak in- and exhale. „We'll take you inside. In a cosy warm bed. - A doc's going to check you over … and then it's just us again." His own last words sounded nearly like a threat.

He traced a gentle kills on Sam's forehead, as the hatchback flapped down and Bobby and Ellen appeared on the end of the bed load.

„There we go, Sammy.", Dean whispered silently and cradled the younger male's broad shoulders in his hands.

Bobby took his legs, as Dean sat him up, tugging the bedding's cover around him. Together the hunters sat him up on the end of the backhatch and Dean slid down, before he gathered him in his arms again and lifted him up, straining his abused muscles all over again. Sam's head lolled into the hunter's shoulder, as he shifted him into a more comfortable position.

„We're home, Sammy. - We'll get you help.", he whispered breathlessly, feeling the warmth am Sam's shallow breaths on his exposed skin.

Jim held the front door to Bobby's house open, while Dean emerged, giving his friends thankful nod and went streight upstairs towards his old room, which - Ellen had said - was already prepared with everything they might need.

The female doctor followed them, while the others stayed back downstairs. While she tugged her dark curly hair into a ponytail, she overtook the both men and opened the second door to their left. Dean gave her a grateful look and passed her slowly.

The hunter was stunned by what his friends were able to get together in just a few couple of hours. There were a bunch of medical equipment he usually was used to see in human's hospitals. Pet-doctors usually didn't use all this stuff. When a hunter's monster was going to die it was common to euthanized them.

In the middle of the medical screens and machines was a single queen-sized bed, tugged up on blanks so it was higher.

Dean lowered the motionless body in his arms gently on the white covers while the brown eyed short woman got on the other side, taking a scissors from the nightstand. Dean slowly untangled the younger male from the bedding, recognizing the blood that had soaked thru Sam's shirt and the bedding.

„Wait … wait, what are you doing.", Dean gasped, as he looked up.

She looked at him as it was the most stupid question ever. „Cutting the clothes off of course..", she said slightly confused.

„You hurt him – or even try, I'm gonna skin you alive.", he threatened, his orbs sparkling in a thousand shades of green. „And don't even dare to suggest to euthanize him, lady."

She looked pretty unimpressed at the hunter and started cutting thru the hem of Sam's shirt. „I don't think that your friends would've called me, if they didn't trust me." She didn't even bother to look up again. „We can discuss and introduce later. - But for now I'd suggest that we just try to help your friend." Then she looked up and stopped with her messy scissors-artwork. „Further – I am just here because Jim asked me to. Usually i don't do house calls ..." Then she looked down again, as she guided the sharp item further up. „I don't do Winchesters. - See it as an honor that I'm here and try to help."

Dean nodded and swallowed hard on her words. He was right. There was no way to be rude. Not against the person that was willing to help a monster …

„Fine. - I want you to get us some hot-water bottles. A basin with luke-warm water. Washcloths, towels and some clean sheets." That was when she guided the scissors up to gut the collar of Sam's shirt apart.

Dean nodded again and got all the things he was asked for in less than fifteen minutes. As he returned, the doctor had already removed the shirt and had cut Sam's jeans loose, so that he remained in his underwear.

Dean stared at the motionless body for a moment, suddenly feeling completely helpless. And disgusted by himself. He shouldn't have left him alone. - Not after what he had said to him. Not ever. He had promised to watch out for him and not treat him like he wasn't even worth living.

„Okay.", the doc looked up and laid the scissors aside. „Bobby told me WHAT he is … and honestly – I don't know what kind of treatment is gonna help him. Neither i've any experiences with soultakers. - Hell i haven't even seen one before – just read about them. All though he looks pretty human." She exhaled audibly and shook her head.

„He'd like to be treated like a human.", Dean muttered as his gaze flew over Sam's beaten body.  
Except of a couple of bruises, partially hidden by half-dried blood – which didn't look that serious., there was still the tattoo that seemed to be the worst of his injuries. It was still oozing blood and looked somehow swollen. And the fact that Sam had fought demons and had healed him, didn't bother him any less.

„"Bobby prepared a brass-blade. - We've to burn the tattoo off of him. - It's gonna break the spell. - And when he's better i'll get him something, that's gonna hide him from Abaddon." The woman still didn't look up. Her gaze was fixed to the tattoo, as her medical-gloves-covered fingers felt around it.

Dean looked at her confused. „How'd you know?"

The doctor looked up, her eyes white as the snow in the yard and the hunter's eyes widened in shock. He just knew one species with eyes like this … high-ranked demons. Damn old once. His right hand moved slowly behind his back, ready to gather the familiar grip of the Taurus in his fingers.

„Because i know, Dean. - And now help me to get him cleaned up." She said and took a wetted washcloth, handing it over to Dean. „And don't you think your little toy's gonna scare me. - I'm no demon. Neither I'm interested in any kind of fight. I'm way older than you could even imagine. - So if you want me to help your little monster here do as i say."

Dean stopped and let go of the idea to put a bullet into the woman's skull. At least as long as she wouldn't try to hurt Sam.

„You got the brass-blade?", she asked.

„No … not yet … - i thought .. he's too weak.", he whispered ans he brushed over Sam's forehead. The he guided the wet washcloth over Sam's face (though it wasn't dirty at all. - Just remains of what looked like dried tears). „I don't think it's a good idea to do it now ..."

The woman looked up and saw tears glistening in the hunter's eyes. She frowned and sighed heavily. „I know that. - We shouldn't give the demons another chance to track him down. In his condition, without the ability to protect himself he's jail bait."

„Yeah … you're probably right ...", Dean answered hesitantly and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. „We should do it now ..."

„Well then. - Tell Bobby that we're ready. He needs to heat the blade up over the fire I've prepared in the living room. - I've explained how to do it, he'll know. And tell him to bring it here when he's done." The doctor frowned as more and more of small lacerations and bruises appeared under the smears of blood.

Dean left for less than a minute to tell Bobby what they needed, and returned streight back to Sam's side, brushing over his forehead again. Then he continued on cleaning Sam's chest and stomach up.

He was so gentle and gingerly with the washcloth, that the woman opposite of him had to smile sadly. „I'm Amelia by the way.", she began firmly. „Veterinary since ten years in North Dakota, Valley City."

Dean stole a glance at her and nodded. „Dean Winchester, biggest ass you've ever met. - Currently South Dakota, Sioux Falls."

The woman grinned and couldn't hold back a chuckle. „Very pleased, Dumbass."

Now it was Dean's turn to chuckle. He refocused on finishing brushing the last smears of blood from Sam and threw the washcloth back into the basin, that was rusty-brown at the end.

„You're gong to be okay, Sammy.", Dean muttered, while bowed down over him and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. It was shocking how cold and unresponsive Sam was to him like this.

The doctor continued in silence as she attached Sam's body to the CTG and a clip on Sam's finger wich mirrored the oxygen saturation in his blood.

„Sadly we've no CT to check on his head or ribcage. - I'd love to have an x-ray and an ultra sound of his stomach.", she muttered to herself. „He sure should be in a hospital."

„No hospital in the damn world would treat something that's not human.", Dean gave back thoughtfully with a huff and ran his fingers thru Sam's hair.

„You like him", the doc recognised – finnaly – rather surprised. „How comes?" Amelia started to clean Sam's wounds carefully, while Dean arranged the hot-water bottles around Sam's feet and legs and tugged fresh covers up to his waist.

Dean sighed. „He's not a monster. - He showed me that not all creatures are bad and dangerous." He brushed over his face, like he tried to wipe away the dizziness and exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm him now. „He's a friend." -... or even more than just that … was what he added in his thoughts.

The doc patched up the tattoo, every now and then shooting a look at the monitors behind her. She frowned and sighed as she shook her head in worry.

„What is it?", Dean asked, instantly alarmed.

„His vitals aren't the best right now." She gave Dean a concerned look and tabbed at the counter that showed the oxygen saturation. „We've to take him on oxygen. - If it drops further we've to get him on the vent."

Dean Winchester swallowed down a sob. „It's all my fault. - He's just here because i took off."

The doc frowned and shook her head in confusion. „What Bobby told me, he's well able to protect himself, don't you think?"

The hunter looked up and locked on Amelia's gaze. „I was an ass the past couple of weeks. - I threatened him like … like a monster. - I knew i'd hurt him. That's why i did it." Dean gripped Sam's hand and squeezed it gently. „He killed about two dozens of demons. He healed me. - Damn it, he healed him. He must've known what it'd do to him. And though he saved me. I'd be dead right now when it wasn't for Sam."

Dean's free hand rested right under his ribcage, where his own knife had been sticking in his body. He would've been dead within minutes. „He healed me despite of how I had treated him." A tear ran down his cheek. „It didn't matter to him, you know?"

She sighed and covered Sam's mouth and nose with the mask, turning on the oxygen tank behind the bed. „He passed out before on things like that?"

Dean nodded. „When he got us over the barrier he took out seven demons at once. - After that he was out cold for a couple of hours." He sniffed. „When he healed Caleb he was still with us, but too weak and exhausted to even sit up." He should've stopped Sam somehow. He should've known what the man was going to do.

The doctor seemed to think hard, rubbing her jaw. „I'll get him on saline and maybe a blood bottle or two. - What kind of injury did he heel back there?"

„A stabwound. - One of the demons stabbed me. - I wasn't able to breathe, it felt like drowning somehow … i spit blood … and … " He frowned. „Why?"

„Because – well ... i can just guess – maybe he's suffering from your injury. - It sure as hell doesn't just vanish. With an ability like healing, the injury mostly goes over to the healer. - I don't know how, or why … since i don't see any serious wounds on his ribcage or near it. - But we can try to treat him like I'd have treated your injury and it might work."

Dean nodded. Dizziness washed over him again, and nausea added to it this time. His vision went blurry and unfocused, as he tried to hold onto the mattress, before his knees buckled and gave out under him. That was when his vision went black and everything around him vanished. He just felt himself crumble to the floor and hitting his head on a hard surface, sending a searing pain thru his skull.

* * *

_back on the clearing …..._

Abaddon kneeled beside one of the half-dozen corpses in the snow. Her eyes narrowed at the blood-drops that were guiding away from the center towards the skirting. There she found a frozen pool of blood and messed up snow around, where another host had left it's life. She followed footprints further towards the skirting and her gaze narrowed as she realized that there was no blood anymore and just one pair of footprints that vanished abruptly.

She gave a bone-shattering cry from the depths of her throat.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 16 ~ Leave Me Be **

Dean was sprawled out on the couch in the living room, while Bobby dozed in the dark-brown leather recliner beside him. The old man had sat there for the past eight hours, just leaving when he had to release his full bladder, get something to drink or check on Sam.

The doc had checked the lump on the back of Dean's head and his pupils. Both were half bad, not even a concussion. Amelia had meant that it probably was just exhaustion and that Sam's healing haven't reached out to making him whole completely, even when there was nothing but a scar left where the hunter had been hurt.

While Dean had been unconscious (or rather sleeping), Sam's tattoo had started to draw blood again. And since she knew it wouldn't bleed without a reason (what meant that Abaddon was calling for Sam AGAIN), they had burned it out. She would've lied if she said it didn't inflict his general state. It had. Breaking a spell – especially a demonic bloodspell – always hurt like hell, and brought the carriers of those marks near death (in a normal condition).

They had worked on Sam for about five minutes until they had gotten a halfway acceptable rhythm back. Though he didn't seem to want to breathe, so she had intubated him and had gotten him on the vent.

* * *

Abaddon shoved her table clean with a single stride of her arm and yanked the atame into the tabletop. They had found a way to break her spell. To destroy the one and only way to track her pet down properly. Or … it was dead. What would be a bigger loss as she would've ever admitted. She had foes out there. Foes who didn't want her to raise the knights of hell. Foes that would fight for their „freedom". She didn't care. Abaddon wanted not any knight. She wanted her knight. Wanted to reign hell on his side like thousands of years ago. And this soultaker was a rare chance to do what she wanted to. - On the other hand … she had a couple of others in her cages in the basement. But none of them attracted her as much as the pet's form – and the fact that – if the soultaker's abilities mixed with the knight's that should possess him – their possibilities would be infinite. - Well, at least the war about claiming hell would be much easier and comfortable though.

Back there, when she had claimed this lair as hers, she had never thought that she'd have the opportunity to raise a little of something among her companions. And when she first had seen the boy. Not even thirteen years old, she knew she'd be able to change everything she wanted. She knew she'd be able to break him. To make him hers. Get him ready to play along with the ritual once she was done with him … and now? NOW someone was taking the chance to get her knight back on earth. And she wouldn't let that happen … EVER.

She knew the two of them wouldn't be able to come far, if they were still alive. Either they froze and bled to death or they have had help. She counted on the latter.

What brought her thoughts back to the rotting corpse in the basement. „Burn the corpse. - It starts to stink.", she said to the suited man without looking up.

She had to think, and she couldn't think when someone else was around her.

* * *

Dean moaned and his eyebrows furrowed before he blinked his eyes open. It was dark in the room. Just the spare fire in the fireplace illuminated Bobby's living room a little. Besides …. had he honestly slept that long?

That was when his eyes snapped open in shock and he shot up from his lying position, causing the older hunter in the recliner to jump up from the recliner.

„How long?", Dean asked panting, his voice hoarse and raw.

„What?" Bobby cocked an eyebrow and looked around, searching for a threat.

„How long have i been out?" Dean guided his legs from the couch and looked down on himself. Someone had dressed him in a new shirt. There was no blood on it anymore. „Sam?"

He didn't get the answers fast enough, so he got to his feet a little too fast and his head started pounding.

„Wowowow … slow down, Son.", Bobby held him back and guided him back down on the couch. „You've to eat and drink and we've to talk before you go up there."

Dean swallowed and looked up at the older man. „What's wrong? - Something's wrong, isn't it?"

Bobby held up a hand to stop the younger hunter from babbling. „I said: slow it down. - I want you to eat something and drink first."

Dean nodded. He knew he wasn't in the optimal condition to get into a wrangling – not even with Bobby. He might not looked like a hunter, but damn it. Bobby was fast … and strong.

„Okay. - I eat and drink while you tell me what's up.", Dean suggested, in a tone that didn't allow any dissent.

The older hunter grinned and nodded. „Fine."

So they went into the kitchen. Dean shuffled more than walked, holding the back of his head, feeling the lump and the pain as he touched it more firmly. Man, this hurt like a bitch.

„Achh.", Dean sat down on the table and gazed high alert at Bobby, who passed him slowly and went streight for the fridge.

„Sandwich?", the older man asked softly. A little bit too soft for the grumpy bear before him. - It had to be something bad. Maybe something bad about Sam? He hadn't even heard that undertone in the old man's voice when his dad had died.

„Yes please … - Ham, bacon, salad, mustard, cheese …. anchovies." Dean ordered and waited for Bobby to turn around and give him one of his gruffy faces. But he didn't.

Dean's eyes widened and he swallowed hard at the thought of what could've happened while he was out cold.

Bobby hunched over the cupboard and reached for the pack of cheese. „Look, Boy.", he said, trying to figure out what to say … and HOW to say it. He damn well had the feeling that the kid upstairs meant more to his friend that anyone else in the house. Probably Sam meant to Dean even more as Dean himself. - If he didn't know better, he'd say Dean had fallen in love. A thought that let him smirk happily.

Bobby just couldn't let him go up there. Not without preparation. Not without telling him what he had missed the past ten hours. He had seen what Lisa's death had done to him. It had made him hard and … and just different. He avoided to show emotions (except anger and rage). Bobby knew him too well. And he could clearly imagine how it came that Sam was alone in the cabin and Dean two hours away in a bar to knock some cheap booze into his veins.

He finally had finished the Sandwich and turned around with the plate in his hands. „We've to talk about ..." … but Dean was already gone.

The hunter grunted and blew out a low growl in frustration. So much about preparing Dean and talking about what the both of them always avoided to discuss – _feelings_.

* * *

Dean stood in the doorway. His face pale and his hands trembling. Whatever he had thought he'd find, THIS was worse. He had seen people like that all the damn time on his job. But this … _this was Sam_. Wouldn't he been a dick in the first place, it would've never gotten that bad. The both of them would've figured something out, he would've gotten them out of the woods and would've been able to protect him. IF he would've been there …

The dim light of a lamb on the nightstand soaked Sam's pale face into a faint yellow, just like the sheets that covered his body up to his chest. A tube reached out of the younger man' mouth, supporting him to breathe properly. The peeps of the CTG were unsteady, so were the signs on the screen. Dean wasn't a doctor, nor a nurse, but he knew what it had to look like. And Sam's vitals were far from normal.

„It's touch and go.", Amelia's hoarse voice was heard and the skinny woman sat up in the armchair beside the bed and turned around to face the hunter. „I'm sorry, Dean."

Her voice was so clinical and cold, but her look soft and sympathetic.

The hunter narrowed hesitantly, not sure what to do, what to ask or say … his mind was just blanc. There was nothing he could've asked.

Amelia rose from the chair and checked Sam's vitals, scribbling them into a little red book in her hand.

„What happened, Amelia?", he asked finally, as he stopped in his tracks in the middle of the room. He searched the woman's face for something, not sure what he would find though.

„Abaddon was calling for him. - Bobby said we should wait for you for breaking the spell … but we haven't got enough time and you were out cold. - After that he stopped breathing and I had to intubate him."

Dean closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again slowly. This wasn't how he thought it would end. But to be honest, had he even thought about how it could end? No, he hadn't. Because if he had, he wouldn't have made the mistakes he had made. He wouldn't have yelled at Sam and he wouldn't have left him all on his own in the cabin.

„Take a seat.", she said and pointed at the chair, giving him a small smile. „I'll check out if we can get some coffee."

The hunter just nodded. He was unable to say something. Instead of sitting down, he went to the bed, taking Sam's form in. The screens. The vent.

He laid one of his hands on Sam's forehead and took his hand with the other one, squeezing it gently.

„I wish we could switch places.", he muttered and closed his eyes for a moment. „I'm so sorry Sam. - I shouldn't have left you. - I shouldn't have acted like a dick. - I … I … wish i could make it unsaid – undone.", he continued, well knowing that Sam wouldn't understand, wouldn't remember a single word. But he needed this right now. Needed the apologies more than the air to breathe.

Dean's hand wandered down over his temple and over the cool cheek to let it rest on Sam's yaw. _What was he supposed to do?_

With a shuddering sigh he let go of Sam and pulled the arm-chair closer to the bed and sat down gingerly, as the room started to spin again. Then he took Sam's hand again and started to rub circles into the back of it with his thump. All he was able to do was being there for Sam. Trying to keep contact and show him that – despite everything he had said and done (or rather not done) – that he'd be still there for him. That he wanted to make it up to him again, when he woke up. And he would. - Sam was a fighter. Hell, he had survived years of physical and psychical abuse of demons …

That was when he remembered the letter he had stuffed into his jeans. And gladly he still wore them. Dean shoved is hand into the back pocket of his jeans, hesitating for a moment. He wasn't sure if he honestly wanted to read it … he knew that he had been an ass. He thought he knew that Sam would think it was all his fault anyways ….

Nonetheless he pulled it out and folded the creased paper apart, taking a deep inhale before looking at it.

_Hey, Dean!_

_I don't know what to write. I just know I can't leave without at least a note or something. - I just wanted you to know that you don't have to look for me. I don't want to be a burden anymore._

_I don't know when this all went so wrong. But I do know – despite that you hate me now – that there was a time when you have liked to have me around. I don't know what I've done wrong … i've tried so hard not to make you mad._

_All that I know is, that I don't want you or your friends to get hurt. I don't want you to get dragged down with me, because I know that this is how it'd end if I would stay._

_They are going to find me and will try to take me back … and I don't want to. I don't want to go there ever again._

_I just wanted you to know, that I'm very thankful for all you've done for me. You gave me a taste of what it means to be treated like a human. You showed me how live could be if I wouldn't be what I am. I belonged somewhere … to someone – and it made me happy._

_But you're right. I am a monster. I am a burden. And you … you're a hunter. Monsters and hunters don't belong together. They can't even be friends. And since I'm feeling so different when it comes to you … i don't know … i think it's one of the reasons why I'm leaving though._

_I'm sad that the last time we kind of talked to each other was a fight. - I just didn't understand. But now I do. I know there's no future for someone like me …._

_Thank You for everything, Dean!_

He had tears in his eyes, when he laid the letter into his lab and rubbed over his face with both hands. Sam had never expected to survive. He had never expected to get on on his own. - That was why he had left everything in the cabin. He didn't want to come back – or even get out there alive … and Dean had just pushed him away all the time. Had intensified the feeling that Sam was a monster, that he didn't belong anywhere … and now? Now Sam was going to die – just because of him. Jut because he was a selfish bastard.

Dean shoved the letter back into his pocket for later self-punishment, and leaned towards the bed. „You belong to me, Sammy.", he whispered. „I gave you the feeling that you're alone. - But that's not true … I won't be like this ever again. - I promise."

* * *

Days passed and Sam wasn't making any attempts to open his eyes again. Though his vitals had improved and Amelia had said that he should wake up rather sooner than later … And since the armchair wasn't that comfortable, Dean had organized a cot and placed it at the wall behind the door, where he spent his nights now. He had to be there, when Sam woke up. He just had to. He couldn't leave him alone. _Not again._

Amelia had refused to take Sam off the vent. She had said in case of further complications they'd need it, and it didn't look like Sam was fighting it, so it stayed.

Dean was punishing the shit out of himself in the meantime. He spent every single minute beside Sam. The only times he left him was when his bladder called for relieve, or when his stomach rebelled when he was half-starved.

Bobby had given the younger hunter a bunch of books to spent his time on Sam's side a little bit more productive. Most of them weren't exactly Dean's favors. To be honest … none of them were Dean's thing. He was more into movies and stuff. But on the other hand … after the first two days, he had started to read for Sam. Every day. From the moment he woke up and had his first coffee in him until late into the night when he emptied his last glass of whiskey.

* * *

This morning was nothing different. He had just finished his coffee and got comfortable in the chair beside Sam's bed, as he started to read. The hunter haven't even finished the first page, when a silent choking noise made its way towards him. His eyes snapped up and he let the book glide from his hands, as he jumped up from the chair.

Sam wasn't even completely back. His eyes remained closed and squeezed shut, while he tried to fight the tube in his throat. His hands snapped up and wanted to grip the foreign object, but Dean was way faster. He caught the younger man's wrists and tried to hold them down. Somehow it was unbelievable how strong he was, though his rather bad condition.

„Sam. - Don't. - Open your eyes. - Look at me … look at me Sammy ...", Dean tried gently, trying to get the long limps back under control and Sam to calm down.

Sam didn't open his eyes, nor seemed to even hear him.

„Please, Sammy. I -" That was when Sam's fist met his solar plexus, sending him backwards.

Dean tripped over the chair as he stumbled back, taking it with him to the floor. All air punched out of his lungs and he tried to suck in a breath. Instead there was just a wheezing noise. At the fourth try he was finally able to get some much needed air back into his lungs, and he sat up from his lying position.

„Sam!", he gasped as he saw, that the younger male sat up awkwardly, his hands wrapped around the tube of the vent and then pulled.

* * *

The first thing Sam felt was the foreign object down his throat. Oh god, he was going to choke. He tried to breath against ist, but it wouldn't work. His throat was on fire. The thing they had shoved into him … panic gripped him and a sour realization hit Sam. He wasn't dead. _Oh god no_ … he was still caught in this life called hell …

Then he heard someone – a soft voice. _No no no no_ … not again. This couldn't be true … He had to get the thing out by himself. Had to get away, now where someone gripped his wrists, tried to hold him down. Pure panic rose inside him – fast. His eyes snapped open, nothing but blurry shapes around him, and the thing that tried to hold him down. The thing that stuck in his throat and tried to suffocate him.

After what seemed like eternity, he finally landed a punch and the man let go of him. And he wouldn't wait for him to come back. He wrapped his fingers around the tube and pulled. _Oh god_ , this thing tried to burn his throat.

As he finally had ejected it, he sucked in a wheezing breath and another burning sensation made it's his way down into his lungs. He coughed, not sure what to cough out, and then his slowly regaining vision started to clear.

„Sam!", he heard a familiar voice calling out. His eyes widened and his face snapped towards where the yell came from.

A pair of emerald-green eyes stared at him. This wasn't how he had imagined Sam to wake up. - Maybe he should've insisted of getting the tube out of him before he woke. Maybe he should've made so many things different …

Rarely things went down as you imagine … Though there was no time to drown in self-pity.

* * *

Dean got to his feet, panting, trying to get another deep inhale of air. „Sam ..", he whispered and his voice broke, as a mix of fear, realization and hurt glared at him thru hazel-green orbs.

The young man crumbled down from the bed on the other side, taking the attached cords from the CTG and the screens with him to the floor. He tried to free himself frantically from the wires, just to tangle himself in them even more. Nearly in the same moment he noticed that he was naked. Completely naked, what didn't help his panicky state. It just drove him more into frantic tries to get rid of the thin tube that burned in his urethra. It hurt and tore even more, as he pulled it - and the small balloon that was supposed to hold it in his bladder – out by himself.

If his vocal cords wouldn't have been that raw, there'd have been an agonized yell and not just an open mouth.

The hunter rounded the bed slowly, watching Sam's weakening struggles with the cords for a moment, before he squat down in a save distance.

„Hey, Sammy." Dean didn't know what to say … or how to start. „It's okay. - Everything's okay." Dean tried to hold back his own panic, afraid Sam could hurt himself even more if he tried to come closer. He just got a distracted short glance, before the younger male tried to get away from him as fast as his body allowed him.

„Sam – Wait.", Dean held both hands out, showing his open palms. „I'm just gonna remove the suction caps, okay?", he asked silently.

The young man looked up warily – watching Dean as he narrowed slowly, and first Sam inched backwards and looked down on himself. He saw the red and blue suction caps all over his ribcage. Then he looked back up at the hunter who was now closer than a moment before. Sam's eyelids got heavy again, but he didn't dare to close them. Didn't dare to pass out like this. Without clothes, without covers. Without anything.

He barely reminded what had happened. Just that there was Dean. And that he had yelled at him. That he had made something wrong – that he must've made him mad. The getaway thru the woods and the fight with Abaddon's men – and then Dean again. Haven't he left a letter for him in the cabin? He hadn't want him to follow …

Sam braced himself up from the floor with his left elbow, trying to pull his knees up further, but his body wouldn't obey. Fear washed over him, over and over again, causing panic and distraction in his mind.

„ _No_ ...", he breathed frowning, trying to inch back further, but couldn't.

„Sam – it's okay.", Dean said again. „I'm just gonna remove the suction caps. - Nothing more." Now he was close enough to touch the young man, but his hands remained where they were. „Can i? - Please?"

Sam shook his head. No. He looked at him like a deer caught in the lights.

The hunter fought the urge to break out in tears right there. „Please, Sammy. - I know I've been an ass. - But please … PLEASE let me help you. Let me help you to get rid fo these.", he pointed at the younger man's ribcage, „Then i'll back off if you want me to. - I'll go and leave the room if that's what you want."

Sam broke the eye-contact and lowered his gaze.

„I take that as a _yes_?", Dean asked quietly and reached with his hand for him.

Sam just nodded, his whole body trembling.

„Okay. - I'm gonna remove them now. - Keep still.", he informed the younger man and inched closer.

Sam held as still as possible, pushing the rising panic aside, squeezing his eyes shut until Dean was done. The hunter sat back on his heels and looked at Sam for a moment. „I'll get you something to put on. - And the doc to check on you …", he muttered more to himself than towards Sam as he rose and left the room in a hurry.

On the corridor he nearly ran into Bobby, followed by Ellen and Amelia. The rest was out to get supplies for the weekend and other stuff they needed.

„He awake?", Ellen was the first one to ask.

Dean nodded. „I'll go and get him some clothes and water.", he informed and passed them without another word, disappearing downstairs.

* * *

A couple of minutes later he was back upstairs. Ellen and Bobby stood on either side of the threshold and the doc was probably inside. The door stood wide open, both of his friends stared to the floor, as Dean stopped in his tracks before he entered. He saw the doc, kneeling about a yard away from the naked form in the furthest corner of the room. She held a blanket in her hands, showing it to him and whispering things no one but Sam was able to hear.

The young man sat curled up in a tight shaking ball on the cold floor, his face buried between his knees, never looking up.

Finally Amelia gave up with a heavy sigh, laying the blanket on the floor beside sam and rose. Then she left the room, passing the both older hunters and Dean and stopped outside, shaking her head.

„He won't let me have a look." Then she looked up, meeting concerned green eyes. „I can't check him over like this. - He doesn't trust me enough. But as far as i can tell he looks okay. - Since he pulled the permanent catheter out, it's gonna hurt a while and there might be blood when he has to pass urine. It'll burn a couple of days. - For the intubation tube … i would have to check his throat." She sucked in air thru gritted teeth and blinked at Dean. „See if he want's to drink some water. - If he won't swallow it's not that bad. It'll be uncomfortable for a few days though. - Just offer it to him every now and then."

Dean nodded sadly. „I'll get him his clothes. - And something to drink ...", Dean muttered, his lips forming into a hard line. „Thank you doc. - For a monster you're pretty cool.", he said with a sad smile.

„For a Dumbass Winchester you're pretty nice.", she gave back with a grin and petted his shoulder. „I'll stay for a couple of days longer anyways. - And for my equipment … - you gotta pay the damage."

Dean chuckled and shook his head. „Sure i will."

With this she went downstairs and the hunter got back into his room, trying to catch Bobby's or Ellen's look. As he had entered, Ellen pulled the door close behind him and gave him a hopeful nod.

The hunter squat down in front of Sam and laid the bunch of fabric beside him."I've got something for you, Sammy.", he tried to get his attention, but Sam wouldn't look up. „Fresh clothes. - And … maybe … when you're ready, we could talk?" Dean watched him hopefully. „I just ..."

Sam let out a shuddering breath. He just didn't want to be there … couldn't he be just anywhere else? Preferably dead and in heaven, hell … or rather purgatory in his case? Why did he have to live? He didn't belong there. - He didn't know what would await him. What would happen next. - Dean might seemed nice again. - But what about later? When he made another failure without noticing? He couldn't do that. He didn't want to do that again. - He had disappointed the hunter. And now that Dean knew he'd probably take off again when things get bad and he'd lock him up somewhere …

„You wanna be alone?", Dean asked hesitantly.

Sam didn't move, not even look up.

He'd loved to pull Sam close, tug the man in his arms and tell him that he wouldn't hurt him, that he'd promise him to watch out for him. - But now? He couldn't say it, since Sam sure as hell wouldn't believe a single word he was saying. He had hurt him. He had broken his promises. He had betrayed him. - And now he had no clue how to fix this. He just knew he wouldn't give up that easy. This was something he had to fight for, he wanted to fight for. Sam was worth jumping over this own shadow.

„Okay … i'll … i'll stay on the other side of the room. - I'm going to be in the chair and … and wait." With those words he went where he had said, pulling the arm-chair towards the window and sat down. Staring outside and watching the soft movements of the branches outside. - His back towards Sam.

He didn't know how much time had passed … but after a while he heard the rustling of fabric and the jarring of floorboards, as Sam shifted his weight.

A faint relieved smile ghosted over Dean's face.

_…... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 17 ~ Once More With Feeling **

Dean stayed in the arm-chair, staring out of the window and tried to think, holding a water bottle in his left and the right hand in his jeans-pocket, where he held Sam's letter, thinking. Thinking about what Sam had written, what he had done. What the hunter had messed up, just to keep himself from „ _molesting_ " someone else. And probably it wasn't even molesting … maybe Sam had felt the same way – somehow. The difference (Sam had mentioned in the letter) of feelings towards Dean could've been a sign for it. Maybe the young man wasn't able to name this feelings, didn't know what they meant and what to do with them …

Somehow Dean felt selfish and wrong and just … disgusted about himself. But on the other side: What if it wasn't like this? What if it wasn't that kind of difference Sam had written about?

He sighed and and shifted in the chair. Listening. - There was complete silence. Dean shifted again and sat up, trying to decide if he should stand up and look for Sam, or if he better stayed put and just daring to glance into the corner … His decision fell on his primary thought and rose slowly to his feet. His gaze immediately traveling towards the furthest corner behind him.

Sam was still curled up, but his head wasn't buried between his knees anymore. Instead it rested against the wall, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly agape. - He looked like he was fast asleep. Somehow the hunter felt relieved about that. It would buy himself some time, to think … and maybe talk to Ellen – Or Bobby. Or maybe it was wiser to talk to a priest like Jim? He didn't know yet. He just knew that he had screwed up bigtime and needed some advice …

Dean unscrewed the water bottle and placed it in front of Sam's feet . Then he went for the bedding on the bed and covered Sam's body as good as possible before he left the room silently. As he emerged he leaned against the door and tilted his head back against the door, closing his eyes. Dean didn't even notice that Ellen stood there a couple of feet away, leaning against the banister on the top of the stairs.

„What happened before you left the house? What happened between you both a couple of weeks ago?", she asked, breaking the nearly unbearable silence.

Dean's eyes snapped open, pulling himself out of his thoughts and catching Ellen's demanding gaze.

„Not now, okay?", Dean asked and frowned, trying to tell her with a single look that he barely held it together at the moment. - That now wasn't the right time, nor the right place.

„Why's he like this – again?", she got on asking, not caring about Dean's feelings _obviously_. „Maybe I should've taken him with me, instead letting you."

Ellen always knew what buttons to push when it was about the Winchesters and feelings.

Dean looked away and back up again. „Yeah. - I gotta say you're damn right with that. - You should've been taking care of him." Dean didn't hide the self-loathing edge in his words.

That was when Ellen was two giant steps later right in his face and Dean felt the afterflame of a brutal bitch slap, even before he was able to see the attack coming.

„Stop whining, Boy." She stared at him in disbelieve. „Might as well take your head out of ya' ass." She exhaled a raged breath thru her nose. „Whatever happened back there in the cabin – it didn't start when you left. - did it? So tell me what happened between you both that turned you into a jackass and Sam into what he was before. Would ya'?" Her gaze narrowed. „Because i won't back off before i know."

Dean sniffed, his eyes started to get wet and he blew out a long exhale. Better now than never. „I messed things up, okay?" He shook his head. „I know now that i screwed things up with Sam. - I made the wrong call. - I … I just ..."

„You were just like you Winchesters are, weren't you?", she asked, her eyes darkening.

„Me and Sam – We spent so much time together … and – somehow … We kissed. -"

Ellen's eyes went wide. Probably she haven't awaited THAT.

Dean raised his hand to stop Ellen from whatever she wanted to say. „I was unsure if … if Sam wanted it – _really_ wanted it … or if I went too far." He sighed deeply and shook his head. „I just wanted him to back off … - I was afraid that I'd take advantage of him … so I pushed him away."

She watched him closely all the time, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

„... and then i acted like the biggest ass ever. - That's why i left the cabin, after i had yelled at him. I just had to get out as he said that he didn't understand … and that was just … too much." Tears started to run down over the hunter's cheeks. Beautiful green eyes filled with sadness and sorrow and the will to make it all good again. „I told him that he's a monster, Ellen." Dean shook his head over his own stupidity. „I can't make this up to him again. - I'm not betraying myself here. - I promised that I'm gonna watch over him, that I'm gonna protect him. And i didn't. I've hurt him, Ellen. - Really bad. He doesn't trust me anymore. - Hell, I wouldn't trust myself either. I wouldn't trust myself ever again if I was him." He cried like a little kid whose pet had died.

The huntress sighed heavily. „Well, Dean. - Gladly he ain't you.", she said and reached up to brush the tears from Dean's cheek, where a red mark of her palm remained. „And now look at me, Boy, and listen." She caught the hunter's gaze and wouldn't let go of his cheek, trying to give him some comfort. „I am pretty sure you didn't take advantage of Sam. - I know you too well." Then she bit her lower lip and sighed again – even more heavily. „I don't know _what_ makes the kid tick. I don't know what he feels. - But i can tell you as sure as hell, that he loves you. - They way he looked at you, the way he trusted you. His whole behaviour when he was around you in the cabin. Son – That's way more than just friendship if you ask me." She cleared her throat and put on a sad smile. „And for the rest – I should bend you over and spank your ass." Ellen pulled her hand back and glanced at the door behind the hunter. „I honestly don't know how you probably could make it up to him again. - Depends on if he's going to trust you or anyone else after all this. But i do know, that when you love someone, this love's not just vanishing. - It's still somewhere inside you, even if you don't feel it in an instant.", Ellen ended and gave him a weak smile. „Let him calm down. - Let him get settled. - I'm sure he had never been attached to medical equipment before. Neither i think he has ever SEEN things like these before. - And he sure as hell have never had a tube down his throat, and one up his …." She waved with her hands in the air. „... you know what i mean ..."

Dean nodded and replied with a weak smile. „You're awesome, Ellen.", he muttered and sniffed, brushing one of his last tears away.

She chuckled, her smoke-rough voice letting it sound even more sympathetic. „I know.", and with that she petted the hunter's shoulder and vanished into the room she had gotten from Bobby for her time being on the salvage.

The hunter – now alone in the corridor – sniffed and turned back around, facing the door. Then he turned towards the stairs again. He had to get a coffee first …

* * *

Dean went into the kitchen and cursed silently at the sight of the empty coffee-pot, holding an empty mug in his left hand.

That was when Amelia entered – with a mug in her right hand – and sat down at the table, blowing out a huff. „No coffee?", she asked, rolling her eyes in disappointment.

Dean chuckled and started to prepare the coffee machine and turned around as he was done, leaning against the cupboard.

The machine started to gurgle.

„How did it come that you're a doc?", he asked after a while of strained silence. „You could've become everything ..."

She looked up and blinked a couple of times at the hunter – rather surprised. Then she sat up in the chair and started to run her index finger over the edge of her empty mug. „Why don't you hunt just deer?"

Dean shrugged. „Fighting evil, hunting things … saving people … the Winchester's business."

Amelia was obviously eager to fight. „Things like me? Or _Sam_?", she asked softly, not hiding spikes of anger in the word **things**. Her eyes flashed white.

Deans features remained indifferent. „Not like you or Sam. - Sam's not a thing. He's more human as he thinks he is. - And you ...", he eyed her from tip to toe. Taking in her fragile looking body and her small hands and fingers. _Her white eyes_. „I still don't know what to think about you. - But I'm pretty sure you're nothing dangerous."

She looked at him for a long time. Watching him closely. There were no lies in his voice or face. „Wow. - Out of the mouth of a Winchester.", she chuckled surprised. „It's a rare thing to meet a hunter who thinks that not all creatures are beasts."

Dean nodded with a sigh. „I learned that recently.", he gave back and smiled weakly.

The doctor's look narrowed. „You're not like most of the other hunters I know ..."

Dean shook his head. „Maybe not anymore. - A couple of months ago I'd have killed you without asking if you've ever hurt someone. - You're a monster, that would've been reason enough for me.", he answered honestly. „But since Sam … it's all different. - Hell, when i first saw his black eyes – i wanted nothing more but gut him."

„What changed your mind?", she asked frowning.

Dean shrugged again, and then – like on an order – the coffee machine gurgled and the coffee was ready ….

* * *

Sam smacked his dry lips and blinked his eyes open sleepily. His gaze flew thru the room – he was alone. Somehow he felt relieved that there was no one else around …

In front of him stood an unscrewed water-bottle. Sam eyed it warily – thinking for a moment. Then he took it anyway and wetted his lips and mouth. Hesitantly he sipped on it, swallowing it hard and … _damn that hurt_. He took another small gulp and another one. It still hurt but he was so damn thirsty that he couldn't deny the cool refreshment. Sam held the water-bottle to the left side of his chest to ease the burning pain there. Trying to hold the bottle still, but he couldn't stop his body from shivering, even when he wasn't cold. The young man put the bottle aside and tugged the bedding closer, pulling it over his head.

* * *

When he woke up the next time, it was because of rattling and clanging of metal and plastic and heavy footfalls and squeaking floorboards.

Dean worked on Amelia's equipment. Dismantling and storing it into big plastic boxes. He had tried to be as silent as possible, but there was no way to get the stuff separated without making a noise.

Sam's fingers curled around the hem of the bedding and he pulled it down just a little bit, so that he was able to steal a glance at the worker. After a while and after nothing else happened he lurked over the hem of the bedding again, watching Dean warily. Something inside him felt relieved to see someone now. - See _him_ now.

Another part of him was afraid. Afraid that Dean would ignore him, that he'd push him away all over again. No matter how much the voice in his mind yelled at him to get up and wrap his arms around the hunter – feeling the hunter – _he couldn't …_

He knew – even when he would be nice now, there'll come a time when he'd reject him all over again.

So he just watched him warily. Trying to soak comfort from just being in the same room with him. Reminding himself that he was still a monster and that he still lived because Dean needed him to get to Abaddon.

* * *

Dean wiped the sweat from his forehead and groaned. Maybe he shouldn't have insisted doing the demount all by himself.

The hunter glanced towards the corner, noticing that Sam was watching him. Dean didn't do anything to come near him, nor show him more attention as just this one glance. It would've been to early though. Sam didn't trust him anymore – he could tell. He wouldn't trust himself either after what he had done.

An hour later he was done and had set the boxes one above another and placed them beside the door. He shot another glance at Sam, recognising that not just his mob of hair and his eyes were uncovered now, but his whole head was lurking out behind the bedding.

Dean knew Sam had to eat. Sam _needed_ to eat. So he held Sam's gaze for a while. „Hungry?", Dean asked then, keeping his voice low.  
Sam shook his head.

Nonetheless Dean went downstairs and prepared two sandwiches with peanutbutter and jelly, cutting them into four halves. On his way out of the kitchen he nearly bumped into Amelia – so sunken he was in his thoughts.

„Whatch where you're going, Winchester.", she said and looked up, meeting his gaze, one of her small hands brazing against the hunter's front. „How's he?"

Dean gave her a sad smile. „He's alert. - But didn't move a lot yet."

She nodded and bit her lower lip thoughtfully. „I'll try and check on him tonight. - _If_ he lets me."

Dean nodded and sighed heavily. „When are you leaving?"

„You want me to leave?", she asked with big brown eyes, pleadingly.

Dean chuckled shyly.

Amelia looked to the ground, her cheeks slightly blushed. „You know, Winchester … usually i don't do this kind of stuff … at least not when it comes to hunters … but … maybe.", she looked up again, her eyes sparkling in affection. „Mabe we could meet up when you're somewhere in North Dakota?" She chuckled and shook her head. „Oh god, i'm horrible with these things ..."

Dean's eyebrows furrowed and he smiled shyly at her, then his gaze flew towards the stairs. „Are you asking me for a date?" _… was she asking him for a date?_

Amelia looked up at him, her eyes white as snow. „What would you say if it's just this?"

The hunter sighed. „I'd say: I'm sorry ma'am. But there's already someone else i wanna date with ...", he nodded upstairs.

„Oh ...", Amelia took a step back. „Wow … so … Sam?", she asked and Dean nodded smiling.

„Wow … that's just … WOW … didn't thought you're …. you know ..." Amelia cleared her throat and stepped aside. Dean laid his free hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently, catching her gaze for a moment, that said more than thousand words before he went back upstairs.

* * *

Dean entered silently and let the door slide into the lock behind him, picking up the book he had abandoned since Sam had woken up and freaked out. He sat down beside the young man and leaned against the wall, watching Sam who eyed him warily the whole time.

„Made us some sandwiches.", he muttered, taking one half of them and tearing a giant bite from it. Then he went for another half and held it out to Sam.

The young man first eyed Dean and then the sandwich. Checking the hunter's face closely.

Dean swallowed and sighed – never breaking eye contact. Lost in green hazel-eyes, he put the both halves back on the plate.

„Sam. - I'm sorry." Dean frowned, insecure if Sam would understand him. - _The way he meant to be understood._ „I had promised to protect you … and i did the opposite of it. - Sometimes … you know … sometimes people say things they don't mean. sometimes people are just stupid."

Sam looked aside as if he didn't want to hear what the hunter was saying, like he didn't want to see him.

„Look at me", he said softly, reaching for Sam's face. The younger male flinched away. But Dean did it nonetheless – laying his hand on Sam's right jaw.

Sam closed his eyes and started to tremble. He wanted nothing else but run, or at least back away. If he would listen, he would give in, paving the way to let the hunter hurt him all over again.

This was worse than death … having hope and getting' it ripped away was worse than anything in the damn world.

„Please, Sam. Look at me.", Dean pleaded, his eyes already filling with tears. _Oh god … this hurt_. - He would've never thought that it would inflict him that much when someone was _afraid_ of him. He had always thought that it was a benefit of being angst-inducing.

\- Sam flinched away again, as the hunter laid his other hand on Sam's left cheek. He screwed his eyes shut and his trembling increased. So did his breathing.

„Please …. let me go. Let me go.", Sam whispered broken. „I'll do whatever you want from me – EVERYTHING – just don't … don't do THIS … Ii can't ...", Sam rasped with raw voice.

He wouldn't open his eyes.

Dean didn't pull back. Wouldn't give him the space he thought he needed. Not until he had said what he wanted to say. „I was a jackass. - I … I didn't mean it."

Sam's breaths came in short puffs, brushing over the inner sides of the hunter's forearms.

Tears were gathering in Sam's eyes. So they were in the hunter's emerald-green ones.

Dean blew out a shuddering breath. „I'm sorry that I hurt you. - I'm so damn sorry. I know I can't undo it. But … maybe you'll forgive me? Some time?"

Sam blinked his eyes open, seeing the hunter's tear-filled eyes. He rubbed a tear from the younger man's cheek away, trying to get thru to him. „I'll do whatever it takes to get you to trust me again ..."

Sam blinked and sniffed.  
The hunter sat back on his heels and grabbed the plate, shoving it closer towards Sam and the water bottle. Then he picked up the book beside him. _The Willows in Winter by William Horwood._ And he started to read out loud.

Some time after page ten Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed over his face. His eyes burning and his voice dry. As he looked up, he met Sam's gaze, who looked like caught in the tale. Something in his eyes pleading the hunter to continue …

„Tell you what.", Dean rasped and cocked an eyebrow. „You eat these ..." He pointed at the plate and cleared his throat. „... and drink the water ..." The hunter gazed at the half empty bottle. „Then i'll read two more pages."

Sam looked from Dean, to the book, to the plate, to the bottle and back up at the hunter. He nodded and untangled his hands from the bedding, crossing his legs – letting his protective barrier fall – and reached for one of the sandwiches.

* * *

Later that night Amelia came by to check on Sam. - But he wouldn't let her get close. - Neither Dean. - At least not close enough to check on his healing injuries, throat and private parts.

Outside of the room she told Dean to let Sam drink warm tea or cider with honey. She handed him a bottle with pain pills and antibiotics just in case.

Amelia gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and reminded him of taking care of Sam as he deserved it. Then she left the salvage. Heading back to her vet's office in Valley City. She had just said that she had gotten a call and that she was needed.

And then she was gone.

* * *

Abaddon slowly paced up and down in front of her empty table. The atame still plugging in the table's surface, shining in the silvery beams of moonlight. Her mind racing, her temper boiling – because her time was running out.

It wasn't about the close eclipse in a couple of weeks. It wasn't about the new moon, or the full moon. It was about the fact, that followers of hers were changing the shores rapidly fast.

Then, abruptly, she stopped in her tracks and an awful evil grin spread all over her face. Her eyes sparkling with retaliation.

* * *

It was the very next morning as the hunter awoke from a weird dream. - And holy hell, yeah it had been a weird dream. All about himself, Sam …... and well … Abaddon.

He laid there panting, trying to get the memories of his nightmare back in order. Not sure yet if he really wanted to remember, or if he wanted to hold them at bay …

A sleepy glance at his watch showed him that it was just fife past six in the morning. Actually too early for him to start the day.

Dean had slept on the cot again. - He didn't grant himself anything more comfortable, since Sam was still in his corner on the floor, hidden under the bedding.

A heavy sigh fell from his lips, his thoughts circling about the dream and the few less things he remembered about it. It had been too _vivid_ … too _disturbing_ … He held an engraved blade in his hand. Blood everywhere … and he and Abaddon … well had been busy as hell – in the middle of a damn pool of blood.

And if Dean meant busy, he really meant BUSY … his visible arousal proof enough.

That was when he realized that his hands felt slick wet, something cool was laying on his chest. The hunter grasped for it and felt cold metal in his palm. Holding the unknown item up, so he was able to see it in a beam of moonlight that fell thru the window, ….

His eyes widened in shock.

It was a knife… no, not any knife. THE BLADE he had dreamed about. An atame with engravings on its blade and shaft and blood. - so much blood.

Dean shot up to his feet and nearly slipped in something slick on the floor.

„ _No_ ...", he gasped breathlessly, as he stared at his hands and the blade and then to the floor under his feet. There were red, silvery glistening smears all over the floor.

He instantly drew his attention to the corner, where Sam was hidden under the bedding. Dean went there, leaving bloody footprints behind him. He ever so slowly bowed down and gripped the bedding with his blood-slick hand, drawing it back slowly.

Empty black pupils with a thin circle of hazel around them stared at him …..

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 18 ~ Nightmares **

... Sam stared at him. His face blanc, his eyes wide open in the darkness. Beams of moonlight dancing in lifeless orbs.

" _No_ ... _Sam_ ...", Dean breathed and fell to his knees.

He reached for Sam's face with shaky hands, cupping it, feeling the pure cold of death. He gasped, tears streaming down his face. " _No_ ..."

His heart skipped a beat and another one ...

... and that was when his eyes snapped open. A yelled agonizing " **Sam** " ripped from the depths of his soul, letting the walls shudder. His cheeks wet from shed tears. He felt a cool breeze dancing over his face, the ceiling above him. He swallowed a sob and sat up on the cot, burying his face in his hands, crying shamelessly. Sobs and hiccups wrecking his whole body, as he felt a warm hand over his. So gentle, so soft.

Dean lifted his head and blinking fresh tears away, to see a pair of wary big hazel-orbs looking at him.

"Oh god ... Sam ..." He sniffed, his voice wrecked, his mind still caught in the fine tendrils of his dreams.

The young man kneeled before him, not knowing what to do. He had never seen the hunter like this ... so broken ... and ... hurting. Sam inched closer, waiting for a moment and then came closer again, until he was right in front of Dean. He laid his hand on the older male's wet cheek.

Instead of saying something or asking what had happened, Sam just inched in between Dean's legs and wrapped his long arms around the hunter's middle. So gently, so careful.

The hunter buried his face in the nook of Sam's shoulder and neck and wrapped strong arms around him, tugging him close, holding on him as it was for dear life. Sam rubbed gentle circles on the hunter's back like he had done to him when he woke from a nightmare. It had helped Sam, so he hoped it'd have the same effect on Dean.

Unnoticed by the both of them, heavy footfalls were heard in the corridor and then the door flung open. Dean's head snapped up, so did Sam's. Both stared at the four hunters who suddenly stood in the middle of the room. Armed to the teeth of course. Everyone wearing their night-gear. Also Bobby. - Well it was a pyjama, but ... there were unusual many little green monsters on the flannel he was wearing. And so not Bobby's style ...

The four of them stared at Sam and Dean. Sam and Dean stared at the four of them – rather shocked. After a moment Sam made an attempt to back away, but the hunter held him in place, not wanting to let him go just yet.

"It's okay ...", he muttered, his voice raw, looking at the four of them. "Just a nightmare."

The small group dissolved then, muttering silent apologies and closed the door behind them again.

For a while the two of them stayed like this. Dean's weeping ebbed away slowly ...

Sam pulled back a little and guided Dean's shoulders back on the cot, petting the hunter's knees to show him that he should get them back up. And he did. The younger man then crawled up to him, lying on the very edge beside the hunter and pulled the comforter over the both of them. Without a word, he nestled into Dean's chest, letting himself be tugged closer, and wrapped up in strong arms, one of his arms resting over Dean's waist, the other one on the hunter's chest right above his heart.

Dean buried his nose in Sam's hair, wetting it with the remains of salty tears. "I'm sorry, Sammy. - I'm so sorry ... I -"

Sam tugged on Dean's shirt. "Shhh."

"No ... Sam, I was an ass ... I -" Another sob wrenched from Dean's throat.

And again Sam tugged on the hunter's shirt, followed by a calm "Shhh".

The thought of Sam's _lifeless_ pale COLD body in his hands sent a violent shiver down the hunter's spine. The thought of ... Abaddon and him let nausea creep up his stomach and throat. And the thought of all the blood ...

He tried to hold the memories at bay as good as he could. There was no way something like this would happen. Ever. Though it haven't felt like a "real" dream. - Something was so damn odd about it – not just about the scenery ... also about himself.

Sam rubbed his nose against Dean's chest and shifted a little bit. The hunter inched backwards a bit more, taking the man in his arms with him. Sam's head resting on the hunter's bicep.

"You're my everything, Sammy.", Dean whispered after a while, not knowing if he still heard it, or if he had already drifted off into sleep again. He buried his hand's in the younger man's sticky hair, reminding himself of getting him to shower some time very soon.

That was how the hunter fell asleep soon after – dreamless.

* * *

They slept far into the late morning. Dean laid stretched out on his back on the cot. The comforter tangled between his legs, one hand hanging from the edge, the other one resting on his stomach. Right beside the makeshift bed on the floor, laid a curled up male form. Wrapped into himself and a thin sheet from the bed.

The hunter smacked his lips and blinked his eyes open sleepily, trying to understand what was wrong on the way he found himself awakening. He looked to his left side, noticing that there wasn't any more place for another body left and so he turned over.

"Sam.", he said hoarse and blinked again, lurking over the edge of the cot, to find what he had been looking for.

The man stirred and pulled the sheet over his shoulders, his head resting on his lower arm.

"Sam. - Get up ...", the hunter muttered and tugged on the sheet. "The floor's cold."

The younger man's eyes blinked open and he looked up sleepily. Dean reached for the sheet and tugged on it again. "Come up. - You're cold." His fingertips brushed over Sam's exposed neck as he moved.

Sam stretched a little bit and winced, brazing his left arm to his ribcage.

The older male frowned and inched back on the cot, throwing the comforter to the side, to let Sam back in, recognizing that not even when they tried, the both of them had enough space to be comfortable.

Sam gazed at the hunter warily, sniffing in some cold air.

After he didn't appear on Dean's side, the hunter bowed forward and met the younger man's gaze, looking at him with hope-filled big emerald-orbs. "Please.", he added softly, "Come 'ere."

He eyed the hunter's outstretched arm for a moment, then he looked back into pleading eyes. How was he supposed to withstand those? So Sam followed Dean's wish. He moved as close as even possible when he laid there beside him, and the hunter threw the comforter back over Sam, wrapping his arm around him. Holding him so he wouldn't fall off the cot unintentionally.

"Ten more minutes.", Dean groaned into the younger man's mop of hair.

Sam nodded and closed his eyes again. Letting himself be tugged closer, his body remaining tense in the hunter's gentle embrace. Of course not unnoticed by Dean, who tried to ignore Sam's resistence to the closeness. He ran his fingers thru Sam's hair and held the back of his head gently, guiding his head against his chest with just a little of resistance.

"I know I said that a couple of times yet ...", Dean whispered gently. "But ... I'm sorry that i acted like i did back there in the cabin." He shifted his fingers, so they were buried in Sam's thick hair. "I hurt you. - So much ..."

Sam's eyes were open, listening warily to the hunter's explanation. Not daring to ask, nor to move right now.

"I was so mad at myself that i didn't notice that I was hurting you.", he continued to explain himself. "I thought ... I _think_ that you don't understand my feelings for you." Oh god, damn it – that was harder as he had imagined. "Because ... it's much more as just friends would feel for each other." Then he waited for a respond. But there came nothing. Not even a movement.

"... and ... I don't want you to get hurt, just because of the way I feel.", he added hesitantly. "I don't want you to do things or act in a special way because you think you have to. - I don't want you to think that you have to do _things_ for me. - Because that's not what I want."

Sam rubbed his nose against Dean's chest and sniffed again, as the hunter blew out a shuddering breath.

"I don't even know if you understand what I'm saying here?" Dean's voice was raw and filled with emotions.

Sam rubbed his nose again on Dean's chest and glanced up, tilting his head back a little. "Some things i don't understand.", he answered, his voice still raspy and powerless from his strained throat.

And it was an honest answer. He didn't understand everything he had said. - But maybe just because he couldn't bring the words to terms. Didn't understand what Dean wanted to tell him, what kind of feelings he was talking about.

Yes, there was this comfortable and tingling feeling every time he laid in Dean's arms. And yes, there was something that wanted him to feel his soft pink cushions again on his lips – or his tongue in the hunter's mouth. What kind of confused him in general.

Dean blew out a shuddering breath. That was what he had feared to hear. That Sam had no clue what he wanted to tell him.

They stayed like that in silence for another couple of minutes, before Dean petted Sam's hair gently. "You should take a shower, hu?", the hunter asked.

Sam nodded, turned over awkwardly and sat up on the edge of the cot. Dean had listened like he wanted him to take a shower, so he would. He blew out a long-drawn breath, screwing his eyes shut. The wound on his chest hurt as hell and sent white dots across his vision.

Dean sat up beside him and scooted to the edge, sitting there. "You're up to it?"

Sam nodded. But no, he wasn't. His insides turned upside down just from sitting up. "Yes."

The hunter nodded and rose from the cot, smiling shyly. "You remember where the bathroom is?"

Sam nodded again and glanced at the door. It was just two doors further down the corridor. Just a couple of yards. He had to get there anyway, or his bladder would burst any time soon. So if he was there int he bathroom he could take a shower too.

Sam stood up awkwardly and wouldn't it have been for the hunter's fast reflexes, he would've toppled over. Strong Arms wrapped around his middle from behind and held him for a moment, while Sam tried to catch his breath.

"Maybe we should start slow, ha?" Dean frowned, laying a hand on Sam's chest and coming around to face him. "I'll help you to the bathroom. You do whatever you need to and I'll wait outside."

There was no response so he took it as a yes and slung one of the taller mans arms around his shoulders and wrapped one of his around the man's waist. That way they made it slowly towards the bathroom. He led Sam inside and stepped back outside – waiting for the usual noise that should come. After a while he heard it. Then a muffled gasp and a pained wince followed

"You okay in there?", the hunter asked, well remembering what the doc had said about that part of his recovery.

A split second later the door opened and a pale and sweat-soaked Sam stood there in the doorway, panting as he had run a marathon. He stumbled outside, barely holding himself on his feet.

Dean held him for a moment, before wrapping an arm around his waist again and leading him back to their room, where he guided him down on the bed, helping him to get his feet up there. Then he picked up the bedding from the corner Sam had abandoned during the night, and tugged it over him.

"You stay here. - I'm getting some breakfast for the two of us.", Dean said, his eyes wide to underline his softly said order.

The young man looked aside, chewing on the inner side of his lower lip. Obviously dissatisfied with his performance and deeply ashamed.

"It's half bad, Sam. - In a couple of days you're back to normal. - Your circulatory system's down for the count. You haven't been around on your feet for about a week ... we'll take it slow, and you'll get better.", Dean petted his shoulder before he stood up and went downstairs to get some warm oatmeal with honey and tea for Sam and scrambled eggs and coffee for himself.

The house was empty. - At least he hadn't seen anyone on his way downstairs and back up. With a tray he reemerged into their room. Sam laid curled up on his side, facing the door with a warily expression on his face.

Dean ignored it, though he felt miserable for making Sam feel like he had to be afraid. "There we go, kiddo ..."

Sam snuggled into the pillow, his half face hiding in it and watched the hunter as he placed the tray on the nightstand. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and tugged on Sam's shirt on his shoulder. "C'mon, sit up, Sammy.", he said with a sad smile on his face.

Sam did as he was told and sat up, scooting back until he leaned on the headboard, his legs in criss cross. Dean then handed him the warm bowl with oatmeal and a spoon, while he took a sip from his coffee.

The young man emptied half the bowl and the whole tea slowly. It still hurt to swallow, but it was way less painful as it has been the day before.

The hunter smiled satisfied and put the bowl aside, as the young man had stopped to eat. Half the bowl wasn't that bad when he thought of that he hadn't eaten in a week. - And before that ... at least not a lot.

"I know you won't like the next part ...", Dean said hesitantly, watching Sam closely and saw the flicker of fear in his beautiful hazel-orbs. "I would need to have a look on your wounds. - Get a new bandage on your chest and put some antiseptic ointment on the rest of your scratches ..."

Sam braced his back into the headboard and frowned, blowing out a short intensive breath, as he tugged the bedding up.

"Please, Sam, let me. - I can imagine that I'm the last one you wanna let have a look at you ... I could get Bobby or Ellen?", Dean suggested, well knowing that he wouldn't want to let them do that either.

Sam shook his head violently.

"Or I could get Ellen. - So you wouldn't be alone with me while we do this?", he continued.

Sam shook his head again. "Just you.", he rasped and looked down on himself, tugging the bedding into his lab.

"Okay. - I'll get the ointment and bandages first.", Dean said and got to his feet. "Maybe ..." He looked down at Sam's body. "... maybe you could undress in the meantime?", he asked hesitantly. "We'd be faster then ..."

Sam nodded, not looking up again.

The hunter sighed and went outside with the tray. He wanted to give Sam all the time he needed to get undressed in private. That was the least he could do. So he took his time. Cleaned their dishes, dried them up and stored them again, before he went for the supplies they would need.

When he returned he was surprised to see Sam's dark fabric ont he foot of the bed, and him lurking out from under the bedding. Dean tried to smile reassuring but failed miserably. He laid the tube with the ointment and a small bag – the first aid kit – on the nightstand and sat back on the edge of the bed, making sure he wouldn't sit on the comforter.

"You ready?", he asked softly.

Sam just nodded and tugged the comforter down a little, laying flat on his back beneath it. His hands trembling.

"I'll be as careful as possible, okay?", Dean asked hesitantly, not sure if it would be better to leave him be. But he couldn't. He had to check at least the burn on his chest.

Sam nodded again and turned his head to the side, as Dean pulled the comforter down to his waist.

The hunter removed the bandage carefully and eyed the wound closely. It looked horrible, but he managed a smile. "Half bad anymore. - Heals up quiet nice."

Of course it was a lie ... The wound's edges were angry red and the flesh around it too warm.

While he bandaged the wound up, he couldn't prevent himself from glancing at Sam's face, after he had recognized that the young man was holding back sobs. At least the new wounds wouldn't leave scars at all. They had been just shallow. Not so Sam's older ones from the shackles and the collar he must've worn for years. These wounds would never go away completely. These would be always a reminder of what he had been thru in his life.

Sam screwed his eyes shut, as the hunter started to smear the antiseptic ointment on his smaller wounds. Not because it hurt. - Because he couldn't bear to lay there exposed as he was, and be touched.

It was different when his skin was covered in clothes, but when he was naked ... he just couldn't. It was torture, reminding him of things he didn't want to.

When Dean was finished with his front, he laid his hand on Sam's shoulder and guided him to the side with gentle force, nursing his back. When he was done with this, he sat back and eyed the shivering form before him. Cursing himself internally.

"I'll pull the comforter back up.", he muttered and did as he had said. He tugged the comforter back up and laid a hand on the area of the lump where Sam's bicep was.

And the young man flinched and went rigid in an instant.

Sam curled up again, just right where he was laying. Dean got _The_ _Willows in Winter_ again and skipped to the place where he had stopped, settling himself on the end of the bed, his back resting against the footboard, his legs under the comforter. After a long while of reading Sam seemed to relax slowly. At least the lump didn't tremble anymore.

Though ... there were these tiny shivers, that were visible on the surface ...

Dean frowned and exhaled a heavy breath, getting up and sitting back down on the edge of the bed. He rested a hand on the - still sticky – mop of hair, unsure what to do ... A couple of weeks ago he would've just wrapped his arms around Sam. Would've kissed his forehead, would've whispered things into his ear, that everything would be okay again and that he would look after him. But since he had to play dick-monkey and being a jackass he had lost the right to do that. Further: He couldn't do that, because this time it was his fault that Sam was miserable.

So there were just Ellen's words that made him stay and not running for the hills right now. It was crystal clear, that Sam wouldn't be like he was in just one day. - Damn it, he had to feel himself lucky that the man let him as close as this again – after JUST ONE DAY.

So yeah – baby steps and no fucking this up anymore.

_... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 19 ~ Happy 24th January, Dean Winchester **

Days went by and things improved slowly. - Except Dean's wrecking nightmares. They have gotten worse. There was rarely a morning or night when he didn't wake up soaked in sweat and other body liquids. And just the hell knew what was wrong with him these days.

But Sam been always there, when he woke up panting, gasping for air, or when his eyes were burning with tears. Even when he seemed not to like to be that close to Dean during the days … he always crawled under his bedding, snuggled close – like these nights in the past – and tried to sooth him with just his presence.

Mainly because Dean was crying out his name every now and then in horror. When he discovered something cruel he had done to him in his dreams. Or – lately – his dreams liked to go into another direction at some point. When an undead Sam tried to rip his throat out or … worse.

He wouldn't have been a Winchester if he wouldn't have been able to shove the memories of his dreams aside and take it as a hunter. Because it were just dreams, weren't they?

* * *

It had been one of these early mornings after a wrecking night filled with odd dreams, when Dean stood in the kitchen and sat up a pot of coffee. A glance at the watch told him that it was just half past five in the morning. And he sure as hell wouldn't go back to sleep. Not again. Sam was still recovering and he needed his sleep at some point. The kid looked still miserable as hell.

What he hadn't expected was that Sam wouldn't stay upstairs without him. The coffee was barely thru, when he heard slow footfalls on the stairs and a shuffling noise in the hall, before a sleep-drunken tall man rounded the corner into the kitchen. He stood in the doorway, rubbing one of his eyes like a toddler and yawned.

„Go back to sleep, Sam.", Dean muttered frustrated and leaned against the cupboard glaring at the half full coffee-pot.

He shook his head and shuffled to the table where he sat down on one of the chairs, rubbing his other eye. Then he gazed at the hunter with a look that said _but-not-without-you_.

Dean nodded to himself and switched the coffee-machine off. „Couch?", he asked hoarsely.

Sam nodded and waited for Dean until he was beside him and rose from the chair, following the hunter into the living-room. Dean settled down on the couch and threw his left arm over the backrest, giving Sam an introducing look. The young man curled up beside him and rested his head on the hunter's lap, who stroke gently over his head.

Sam slung his arm under the hunter's upper leg and his other one over it and sniffed, as he shifted to get into a more comfortable.

* * *

When the both of them woke the next time it was because of a luring smell that came from the kitchen. Coffee, bacon, waffles and other food. Dean laid outstretched on the couch, while Sam's head rested on his chest, half covering the hunter's body. The two were covered in one of Bobby's warmest blankets and the winter-sun was beaming into the room from the window behind the couch.

The Winchester smacked his lips, recognising the heavy weight on his torso and the comfortable warmth that radiated from it. He smiled and guided his hand up to the back of Sam's head. It was the first time that Sam had stayed with him like this. Usually he was sleeping not far away from him on the floor or – when they were in their bedroom as usual – on the cot or in the corner.

The young man had always waited for Dean to fall asleep again – after one of his nightmares – to get to another sleeping place. He also wasn't going to sleep on the bed with Dean. - He had prefered the cot, since Sam still wasn't sure what to think about the hunter's behaviour.

A dreamy sigh fell from the hunter's lips, as he felt the soft hair under his palm and a gentle smile formed on his lips. That was how it was supposed to be – Dean was sure. And they were on the best way back to normal – as far as someone was able to name anything in the Winchester's life normal.

Sam rubbed his nose on Dean's chest and purred blissfully, as he felt gentle fingers massaging his scalp.

He blinked his eyes open and tilted his head back a little, so he was able to catch the hunter's look. His hand – wich rested beside his head on the hunter's chest – tangled in the thin fabric, expanded, so that his palm was outstretched.

„Breakfast?", Dean said hoarsely and smiled sleepily.

Sam nodded, but made no attempt to get off of him.

Dean chuckled and laid his head back. „Ten more minutes?", he asked silently.

Sam nodded again.

But there were no ten more minutes. Just moments after the both came to terms how much longer they'd spend on the couch, a grumpy old hunter tabbed into the living-room, yawning and groaning in his casual gruffy style.

„Good morning, Boys.", he muffled loudly. „Up you two go."

Dean groaned, while Sam withdrew from him, settling back into the corner of the couch to the hunter's feet and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders tightly.

„Bobby.", Dean grunted and sat up in a single slow motion. „Ten more minutes ..."

„No way. - I need you to get my truck fixed.", the hunter moaned demotivated. „Can't get the damn cylinder changed without a helping hand.", he added and glanced down at Dean, petting his shoulder with a cheeky grin.

Then he looked at Sam, who wouldn't meet his gaze. „If you want you can watch, hu?", he said with such a soft voice and with such an empathic smile, that Dean thought this couldn't be his Bobby Singer ever.

Sam glanced up behind overlong chestnut-brown bangs, his hazel-eyes sparkling in anticipation and a small smile formed on his lips. „Yes, Sir.", he muttered.

Dean sighed and got to his feet. „C'mon kiddo. - Lets get dressed."

Sam nodded and followed the hunter upstairs, who prepared a fresh set of clothes for Sam in the bathroom, while he got dressed in their bedroom. Sure he was done before Sam anyway, but he sat down on the stairs and waited for the taller man to emerge.

Half an hour later he did, his hair slightly wet from the shower … and ohhh dear fucking god – wasn't he a handsome guy in jeans and a plaid shirt? He always looked adorable … but like this … Dean smiled at him with big sparkling green eyes, as he stood up.

Sam gave him a shy smile and blinked at him – waiting.

„Breakfast?", the hunter asked casually, not able to tear his eyes away from the younger man.

He nodded and followed him into the kitchen, where Ellen and Jim prepared the dishes and Bobby put the rich meal on the table.

Sam frowned as he followed behind Dean, staying back a couple of feet as he watched the hunters. He tugged at Dean's shirt, and as the hunter turned around, he gave him a confused look. „Caleb?", he asked hesitantly.

„On a hunt. - werewolf. Should be back in a couple of days,", he answered and reached back for Sam's hand.

The young man didn't flinch away, instead he let himself be led to the table and guided to the chair. Actually it was Sam's second breakfast with all of them together at one table. Until two days ago he haven't left the room, except he had to visit the bathroom. So yeah, that was definitely progress.

As every one of them sat at the table, Bobby put three pancakes on Sam's plate and a huge amount of self-made apple-sauce. Dean went with the usual sausages and gravy including a couple of stripes of bacon on top of it.

When all of them were done, Dean and Bobby went outside into the garage. Sam – of course – went with them, sitting on a pole and watched them, as the two seasoned mechanics started to work – and curse. Of course Sam didn't watch them that interested because of what they did – his attention was drawn towards the younger hunter anyway. A faint smile ghosted over his lips, as Dean gave him a happy glance with a cocky grin.

Would it be that bad if he'd give in? - Maybe this time the hunter wouldn't get mad at him again? Maybe was all about Dean was talking to him and the things he was promising _true_? This time … maybe it was different? The hunter had begged him for forgiveness. - Not just once. And he was crying so much, it hurt Sam. Every time the hunter woke up in the middle of the night, crying out his name … it wrecked him.

He prefered to see the hunter smile and joking. - But when he was like this … somehow so broken and vulnerable … that wasn't like Dean.

Sam sighed heavily and looked around the yard, taking in the stacked wrecked cars on the yard. Far away, hidden somewhere deep in his mind.

After a long while – and cold to the bones – Dean and Bobby uncapped their beers. The older hunter sat down beside Sam, and eyed him for a moment. He didn't dare to look up and meet the bearded man's gaze.

„Lasts longer as I thought. - Maybe you should go inside." He knew exactly, that Sam wouldn't ask for it, even if he was going to freeze to death on the pole.

Sam shook his head. _No_. Not without Dean.

Dean sniffed and looked at the two of them. „Bobby's right.", he said demanding. - Though his features looked like he didn't want to send him back inside. „We'll be done in about an hour anyway."

Sam glanced up at him, as he came over. His teeth chattering. His cheeks flushed from the cold air. _Was he sending him away?_

The younger hunter gave him a small smile, and reached out for him, brushing one of his dark bangs out of his face. Sam's eyes were just drop-dead-gorgeous in pure daylight.

„Go inside.", Dean said softly.

Sam nodded and rose, not letting go of the hunter's gaze. Then – without forewarning – he took a step forward and wrapped his arms around the hunter. Just for a couple of seconds. Just as long as it took Dean to hug him back. Then he shuffled across the yard, towards the house.

„Well – looks like you both are on the mend, hu?", Bobby rose from the pole with a grunt. His old bones stiff from the cold.

Dean nodded, watching Sam's back until the younger man had vanished behind a stack of car wrecks. „Yeah.", he just said, turning back towards Bobby. „Looks like it ...", he muttered to himself grinning.

* * *

Ellen was busy in the house. In one hand she had one of the phones from Bobby's office, reading to another hunter from an old book, that laid beside the oven. And in the other hand a spatula, with wich she was steering in the pot before her unconsciously.

Sam – who didn't really knew what to do while waiting for Dean to come back inside – stripped off his beanie, jacket and sneakers and went into the living-room, curling up on the couch.

He heard Ellen talk, and then a pissed off „ _fine_ – _call when you need anything else_ " and a silent curse as she went back into the living-room. First she didn't even recognize Sam. Only when she had hung up the phone to the left on a small table just a few yards away from the couch, she saw the young man, who watched her warily.

Ellen gave him smile and went around the small table. Then she sat down on the couch and watched Sam for a while as he was watching her.

„You and Dean are doing better again?", she started after a long time of silence, still holding the spatula in her hand.

Sam nodded, lurking up thru long lashes and brown bangs of hair. His eyes flickering black a couple of times.

„That's fine.", she said with a smile and leaned back. „Otherwise i would've had to spank some sense into him."

Sam's forehead furrowed and he tilted his head to the side.

Ellen chuckled and then sighed. „I know what happened back there in the cabin … - Winchesters are literally afraid of showing feelings. They're douchebags when it comes to that. TRUST ME. I knew his dad." The huntress bit her lower lip. „He really likes you, Sam. - He has changed a lot since he knows you. I can tell." She smiled reassuring. „I've never seen him that happy before in a long time."

Sam blinked and looked up to get a better few at Jo's mother. „I've made him mad.", he said silently.

The huntress eyebrows furrowed. „Why would you think that, Sam?"

The young man thought for a while before he answered, not sure if it was a good idea to talk to that woman about it. And not sure what would happen if Dean found out. „Because I'm a monster. - I know that i'm a monster. He was disgusted. Wouldn't talk to me, or look at me … after we ...", he answered calmly and blew out a long-drawn breath thru his nose.

„After you both kisses?", she asked, when he wouldn't continue.

Sam shrugged and looked aside. His big hazel-eyes a pool of shame.

„Did you like it?", she went on asking – unsure if it was a good idea to get involved whatever the both of them had. Not sure if she was pushing the right buttons here …

Sam looked back up for a moment, his eyes pitch-black, and nodded.

A broad grin formed all over the huntress' face. „I think Dean liked it too ..."

Sam's eyes widened in surprise and shock. „Did he tell you?"

Ellen chuckled and shook her head. „Of course not. - But I saw it in his eyes when we were talking about you."

Sam's features relaxed a little and he smiled shyly.

* * *

Bobby turned the cylinder in his hand, taking it in closely.

„I told you it ain't the damn cylinder.", Dean sounded a little bit impatient, laying the screwdriver back into the box to the other tools.

Bobby huffed and sighed heavily. „Guess you're right about that." He snorted and raised both eyebrows, eying his adopted son from the side. „So … Sam's doing better?" He left the _again_ unsaid.

Dean nodded. „Yeah … I guess I'm on my way to redemption.", he muttered ironically.

„Just redemption?", Bobby asked, keeping his voice steady. _… or is it more?_

Dean turned around and eyed the older man closely.

„Just asking. - Thought there's something between the both of you ...", he said casually and turned back to the car's open hood.

„Ellen told you.", Dean stated and gave a snort.

„Nah – Ellen didn't have to say a single word. - Look at you, Idjit. - I have eyes in my head. The way you look at him … that's definitely more than just the usual stuff." Then he smiled knowing. „And Sam's looking at you in a similar way ..."

Dean chuckled shyly. And he blushed … Maybe the first time in his life ever. „Doesn't matter, Bobby. - He wouldn't understand."

„What makes you shure about that?", he asked, his look narrowing.

„I tried to tell him. - And he doesn't understand …" Dean looked to the side and back up to meet the older man's gaze. „Since when does Robert Singer talk about fluffy feely stuff`?"

„Since he has the _feeling_ that John's son is going to mess it up – **again**." He huffed and sighed heavily. „I'm just saying … he might not understand what you wanna tell him. - But he might's understanding if you'd show him. He's a clever kid …."

Dean shook his head and watched as his old friend started to put the machine back together. „So … what about the cylinder?"

Bobby shrugged casually. „Must be something else."

* * *

Sam stirred in the pot of boiling chilli, while Ellen stood beside him, giving a hunter informations about a wendigo-hunt near the Canadian border. She laid the phone on the cupboard and eyed the young man for a moment, then she petted his shoulder.

„It's Dean's thirtieth birthday on friday.", she began and watched the young man's face closely.

Sam frowned, still staring into the pot.

„I thought we both could bake a cake for him, hu?", she carried on, adding the beans into the pot.

Sam's frown got deeper, his whole face drowning in sadness. „I have nothing for him ...", he said calmly. Then he looked down at Ellen. „Shouldn't I have a present for him?"

Ellen smiled reassuring. „I think you've exactly what he would wish for, Sam. - Besides, you don't have to buy him anything. I think he's happy with what he gets."

Sam nodded, now more pensively than before. „I'd like to … give him something to listen to. He likes music. - He hasn't listened to music in a while."

Ellen's smile widened. „Well, i think i can manage that. - When i go out tomorrow I'll check out what i can find, OK?"

Sams face lit up and faded as fast again. „I can't pay for it … I've no money – no anything ..." _Bam_ , there you go. He was still just a monster and monsters didn't own anything but their life and the stuff they were wearing. At least those who were too careless to hide anyway.

„Don't you worry about that.", she reassured him and smiled softly. „What do you say? I'll get the guys and you get the dishes ready?"

Sam wore still a slight concerned frown on his forehead, as everyone sat down at the table. He got his place beside Dean like always, eying him more intensive as usual, trying to find hints for what Ellen had mentioned. That even – when the hunter was acting like he had been mad at him – he still liked him.

Dean put a giant amount of chilli on Sam's plate, then on his own, eying Sam closely if he'd see any hints for what Bobby had mentioned. - That there could possibly be something like love in his eyes, when he looked at him.

* * *

Later that night – after Sam, Dean and Bobby had watched some manly stuff – they went to bed. Sam had gotten settled on the cot, while Dean took a shower and got dressed into his night-gear. Sam waited for the hunter there, since he had said that he wanted to check on the burn on his chest again before they would go to bed. It was nearly healed up already. The antibiotics had done their work nicely too. What looked like it could become an angry infection was now gone completely.

Dean emerged about fifteen minutes later. He had gotten a short shower since he was tired as hell. And he didn't want to let Sam wait …

„You're ready, Sammy?", he asked with a small smile on his lips.

The younger man nodded and laid back on the cot, glancing at the bed in the middle of the room. The hunter followed his gaze and frowned, then he returned his attention to Sam and sighed heavily, as he noticed his trembling fingers.

He was still nervous when it was about to get at least partially undressed before the hunter. And it hurt Dean somehow. He thought it showed that Sam didn't trust him enough or that he was ashamed of how he looked like.

The hunter tried to ignore Sam's issues since he thought it would make things more complicated for the young man if he wouldn't.

„You know you don't have to sleep on the cot. - The bed's more comfortable ...", Dean said calmly, while he undid the bandage. He shot a glance at Sam and was immediately caught in his eyes. There was no wary expression, no fear … just shame and was that … _worry_? „I think we don't need to patch it up anymore.", he said with a soft smile.

Dean's hand ghosted over the scarred skin over the younger man's chest and was about to pull back, as Sam laid his hand over Dean's and held it where it was. The hunter spread his palm over the scar, feeling Sam's warm skin under his and the slow rise and fall as he breathed.

After a long while Sam let go of his hand and the hunter pulled his hand back. He gave Sam a sad smile, aware that what had just happened was a big step for the young man before him. With a deep sigh, Dean rose from the cot and looked at the bed.

„Wanna get on the bed?", he asked again, eying the uncomfortable seeming cot.

Sam shook his head, again glancing at the bed. Sure he would've liked to sleep on the bed. Hell, it was more comfortable and soft as the fragile thing on wich he was sleeping now. But he couldn't. Sam couldn't just go back to when they had shared a bed before. And since the hunter left the choice to him, he prefered the cot.

Dean moved over to the bed, turning off the light on the nightstand. He felt disappointed somehow. The hunter sensed that Sam wanted to sleep in the bed, but he just wouldn't. Not even when the hunter promised him not to come close, or even when he suggested to sleep on the couch downstairs.

„Good night, Sammy.", he said and turned towards the empty side of the bed, not awaiting a respond.

„Good night, Dean.", came a muffled voice back.

That was when a happy smile ghosted over the hunter's face.

* * *

Not even half an hour later he felt the mattress tip down and Dean opened his eyes sleepily, seeing a sasquatch crawling under the covers on the empty side of the bed. The hunter lifted the bedding with a broad grin on his lips and felt Sam settle against him, snuggling into him like nothing had ever happened between the both of them.

Then he felt a nose rubbing on his chest and a hand tangling into the shirt on his back. Dean wrapped his arms protectively around the younger male and smiled. Whispering a second „ _Good Night_ " into Sam's hair.

Sam gave him a long-drawn purr ans shifted closer.

* * *

_Two days later …... Friday, 24th January_

After lunch Bobby and Dean went into town to get a car part for the hunter's baby, since Dean still hadn't managed to repair the heater properly. Better said: Bobby went to pick up the part and Dean went into the grocery's to get some „ _Oh Henry's_ ".

Anyway: So Ellen and Sam would have enough time to get the cake done, and Sam's present for Dean wrapped up.

Then Ellen prepared the grill in the yard for a winter-barbecue.

And that was when they returned to the salvage. Sam was already waiting on the stairs of the porch, his cheeks blushed from the cold air, his lips reddish and his eyes bright as the sun herself. His face was plastered with dimples of happiness, as Dean got out of the car and grinned at Sam, as he pulled one of the Oh Henry's out of the pocket of his jacket and held it up.

But Sam didn't care a lot about the chocolate bar. Okay … maybe he did though.

Sam helped the hunters to get the groceries in the house. Then they settled down in the living-room. Bobby in his recliner and Dean – wo was like a son to him – and Sam – who started to become one – sat on the couch. Either one with a mug of fresh brewed coffee.

„What about a movie?", Dean asked after a while of silence. Something was lingering int he air, the hunter could tell. Neither of them was talking. Ellen had vanished and Pastor Jim was in his room and was working on the spells Sam had written when they first went to the salvage. And Sam … he was tense somehow.

Sam nodded and inched away from the hunter a little bit.

Dean cocked an eyebrow and grinned at the young man from one ear to another. „E.T.?"

Bobby rolled his eyes and sighed. „He ain't five, Dean."

„Well, but E.T.'s a classical. - And Sam hasn't seen it yet, have you?", he asked, well noticing all the emotions flashing over the younger man's face.

Sam shook his head and glanced at Bobby. His eyebrows furrowed.

„See?", Dean stared at Bobby with big eyes, saying _i-told-you-so_.

„Fine. - E.T. It is.", the old man shook his head in disbelieve. „I'll go and heat on the grill in the meantime."

Dean frowned at the hunter. „Barbecue? In January?" … Yeah, something was off today.

„You both stay put, watch your movie …", Bobby said with a sigh as he stood up.

When Dean had inserted the DVD he sat back on the couch. Immediately having a sasquatch snuggled into him again. He chuckled and picked up the remote, leaning back and waited for the movie to start.

So they watched their movie. Sam purring occasionally as Dean massaged his scalp softly. Every now and then, Dean glanced into his lab to see Sam chuckle and those deep _honest-to-god-adorable dimples_ around his eyes and lips when he did just that. The hunter couldn't help himself but smile and brush over Sam's forehead and cheek, tracing along his jaw gently.

This was what life was worth living for.

* * *

Dean played with a bang of Sam's hair as he felt the younger man shift and turn on his back. Sam was looking up at the hunter, reaching for his hand. Sam guided it to his cheek, leaning into it.

The hunter looked down and him and smiled, feeling the younger man's warm skin on his palm. Then the hunter laid his free hand on Sam's chest and cradled the shirt in his fist.

They looked at teach other for a long time and Sam finally gave into his urge and ghosted with his fingertips along the hunter's temple, jaw and neck. Sending thousands of sparkles thru Dean's body.

The hunter saw so many emotions ghosting over Sam's face right then. Unable to name them all.

„You're beautiful, Sam.", he whispered. And he would've done nothing rather than kissing him right here. Showing him what it meant to be loved like Sam deserved to be. Dean wanted nothing more but tasting him, feeling him.

Though there was this small voice in the back of his mind that told him not to mess it up again.

And then Sam just smiled at him, as if he'd know what he was thinking.

While the closing credits ran down the screen, Dean cleared his throat.

„Better we'd help Bobby with the food ...", he said hoarse.

Sam shot up into a sitting position and nearly jumped from the couch, shaking his head. „We can't."

The hunter frowned and looked at him questioning. High alert in under two seconds. „Why not?"

„Because … because we can't … Ellen said we can't ..."

Dean's frown got deeper. He had known something was up ….

Sam was about to stand up, but Dean held him back, grabbing Sam's wrist and the young man tensed, looking back at him pleading. Panic flickered over Sam's face and his eyes turned midnight-black.

„Wait." Now he was worried. „Sam . It's okay, you can tell me."

The young man frowned and shook his head.

The front door opened. „It's your birthday, Idjit!", Bobby called out, making his way into the kitchen, with a spatula in his hand.

Dean blew out a heavy breath and relaxed visibly, loosening his tight grip on Sam's wrist. A silent _Oh_ fell from his lips right then and his serious expression softened.

„I totally forgot ...", he muttered and looked up at Sam.

*** facepalm ***

„I promised I won't tell.", Sam whispered ashamed.

„Ah – it's okay, Sam.", Dean chuckled shyly. „Guess … While me and Bobby went into town … you and Ellen made a cake?" His eyes glistening cheeky.

Sam's features relaxed slowly as he smiled. „I won't tell."

Dean chuckled. „Fine ..."

„Now stop bugging Sam! - Go and get the rest from the grill!", Bobby yelled and they heard shattering dishes and silent curses.

* * *

They had just started with eating, when Caleb came back from his hunt. They had prepared the table in the dining room with dips, salads, meat from the grill, french fries and a whole lot more delicious food.

This evening was the first for Dean in a long time where he felt like he was home. Felt like family. Celebrating a birthday like that was special. The last time he have had something close to this was when he was about thirteen years old with his dad. He had taken him to a fair and stuff … one of his last birthdays in happiness. Everything after wasn't worth mentioning. Alone in filthy motels or abandoned houses with makeshift cakes made of Twinkies and candles.

 _This_ … **this** here was special. He had his family and he had Sam. ….. and he had a real giant chocolate birthday cake.

After the rich meal they all went into the living-room with a bottle of whiskey, coffee and fat pieces of chocolate cake on their plates. Bobby poured everyone a rich amount of cream liqueur into their coffees – also into Sam's.

„That's … damn it, that's amazing.", Dean muffled with full mouth of chocolate cake.

Sam blushed and sipped on his irish coffee, as the hunter nudged him into his side. „Wait.", Sam said hesitantly and rose. „Got something for you.", he added shyly, his eyes flashing black for a moment.

„More?", Dean asked surprised. After all he had thought Sam had meant the cake he have had for him.

Ellen chuckled and waited until Sam had disappeared upstairs, then she leaned over to Dean. „He was pretty nervous about it … - So … me and the boys thought we'll leave you two alone when we're done with the cake." She blinked at him and grinned broadly.

The young hunter rose both eyebrows in surprise and swallowed the piece of cake. „What?"

Ellen chuckled and wanted to say something, but then Sam rounded the corner with a quadratic flat wrapped up parcel in his hands. He sat back down beside Dean, who looked stuttered at him.

Sam just smiled and held the nicely packed up present towards the hunter.

„Ellen helped me to choose one ...", he said silently and blinked hopefully at him.

Dean beamed at Sam like a kid at christmas. Damn it, this day wouldn't be able to get any better – no freaking way in hell. So he unpacked the small present, biting the tip of his tongue while he did so. It was a CD … mixed music. Dean eyed the cover a little bit confused, then he turned it around to read thru the titles. His confusion faded and his lips curled up into a smile. First he looked at Sam and then gave Ellen knowing smile.

He knew what SHE had planned for his birthday … Then he looked over at Bobby who was discussing with Caleb about his werewolf-hunt. Well, maybe the both of them were in cahoots about this …

„It's awesome, Sam." Dean smiled and reached over to pull the young man into a hug. „I love it."

Actually he wasn't a lot into this kind of fluffy lovy mushy music … but there were actually a few good songs on it. So yeah he meant it. - He loved it. Because Sam had chosen one out of three for him.

* * *

An hour later Caleb, Jim, Bobby and Ellen left them and „ _headed to bed_ ". Everyone wished Dean a happy birthday before they went upstairs and left the both of them in the living room – _alone_.

Sam sat on the couch, curled up, his cheeks lightly flushed from his third and last cup of irish-coffee. So yeah, he might was feeling something already.

Dean glanced at him from the threshold and smiled, the CD in his hands. Hesitantly walking over to the couch. Sam watched him, until Dean stood before him, holding the CD in front of his chest.

„Wanna listen into it?", he asked still smiling.

Sam smiled back and nodded, following every move the hunter made towards the player as he inserted the CD and as he made his way back to Sam. He stopped a couple of feet before him.

The music started playing soft tunes from _Poison_ – _Every Rose has its Thorn_.

Dean reached his hand out towards him, looking at him asking.

Sam's smile widened and he rose slowly, taking the hunter's hand. Long fingers wrapped around Dean's, as he guided the young man into the middle of the room. Never before he had noticed how much taller Sam was, as he reached up to lay a hand on his shoulder and wrapped his arm around the younger man's waist, tugging him close.

Sam mirrored him. - But somehow it didn't fit.

Dean chuckled and guided Sam's hand around himself.

„I can't dance.", Sam muttered sadly.

„It's not about dancing. - It's about … being _together_.", he answered softly and started to move a little, trying to get the sasquatch just with that to move too.

And hell – he should've put on his steel-toed boots.

Finally they managed to – at least – move into the same directions after while. Dean braced his outstretched palm on Sam's lower back, drawing him closer. Sam tilted his head down, their cheeks ghosting over each others. Dean's lips aired over Sam's yaw and chin, finding their destination as they brushed over Sam's tender cushions.

The younger man exhaled a shuddering breath, letting his instinct take advantage of his movements, finding the hunter's lips again. Dean's hand searched it's way up to Sam's neck, pulling him gently closer so their lips met again. This time longer, more lingering. Tongues found their way together in the gentle rhythm of Goodbye Stranger, as Sam melted into the kiss.

Neither of them knew how they ended back on the couch. Dean sitting on it, Sam over him, his long legs resting on either side of Dean's. Big hands cupping the hunter's face. Strong arm's wrapped around Sam's body, holding him close. And they never parted … not once.

Some time – jsut because of the lack of oxygen – they splitted. Both their lips bruised and red. As bad as Dean wanted to rip their clothes off, having his hands all over Sam's body. He didn't. He couldn't do this to him. Sam wasn't ready for that, neither was Dean.

_…... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 20 ~ The Day After **

The both of them had made it into the bedroom some time after they got too tired to try to dance and kiss the living hell (rather heaven) out of them. They lay on the bed, covered with blankets, since the bedding got lost during the night.

Dean lay on his back, limbs sprawled out. Sam lay curled up on his side, snuggled into to hunter's flank, one arm thrown over Dean's stomach.

Both had managed to get into their pyjamas somehow. Of course separated. Dean in the bathroom and Sam in the bedroom. Because the hunter still wouldn't allow himself to even look at the younger male's bare skin. He knew Sam wouldn't want it. Either because he was _afraid_ , or because he was _ashamed_. Or even both.

Sam was the first to wake up. Memories of the last night – Dean's lips sealed over his – flooding back into his mind. That was when his eyes snapped open. Because the next thing he remembered was, how Dean had rejected him the last time they had kissed. He had literally abandoned him afterwards. Okay, the hunter kept kissing him until they fell into a deep sleep. - But though ... it could still come, couldn't it?

So his blissful smile faded fast and he went rigid. Not exactly sure what to do now. The past had taught him to make himself small, invisible from the man's gaze who could probably punish him for his wrong behaviour.

Sam withdrew slowly, pulling back his arm, ready to let his feet slip out under the covers and out of the bed, when Dean stirred and blinked his eyes open. The hunter looked a little bit confused and disoriented, when he instantly noticed a warm body backing away from him.

"Sam?", he asked hoarse and glanced to his left, wrapping his arm around Sam's middle so he wasn't able to get away that easy.

Sam looked up, laying his hands on Dean's forearm like he was going to push it away.

"Come 'ere.", the hunter muttered and tugged Sam back, while he inched towards him, turning to his side to face him.

Sam obeyed, looking down warily.

"What is it?", Dean asked worried and tipped Sam's head up. "Something wrong?"

Sam shook his head, trying to read the hunter's intonation of words. But there was nothing that seemed like he was mad, or even implied something like that ...

Dean smacked his lips and cradled the younger man's face in his hands, looking into desperate hazel-orbs. "Are you okay?"

Sam blinked at him, his eyes flashing black, showing the hunter that he wasn't okay. "I'm sorry.", he whispered barely hearable.

Dean frowned, rubbing his thumb over Sam's cheek. Then he smiled, realizing in his dreamy haze what Sam was apologizing for. There was no way he'd push him away again. Not ever. So he sealed his lips gently over Sams. Smiling into the kiss as the younger man started to respond and parted his lips to let him in.

When they parted, Dean pulled him even closer, wrapping his arms around him, nuzzling on the tender skin where jaw and neck met. A breathed sigh fell from Sam's lips and tilted his head to the side, giving the hunter more access.

He then brushed soft chestnut-brown locks back, so they wouldn't interfere his loving caressing, while he sucked and nipped gently on Sam's neck, who drove his long finger thru Dean's short hair.

Sam pressed his body against Dean's, and felt him tense under his touches as the hunter started to make attempts to get under the younger man's shirt. So he pulled back slowly, resting his hand on Sam's hip.

"You hungry?", he asked and looked up. "I'm hungry."

Sam frowned slightly, as the hunter pulled away from him and sank back onto the pillow. Sam shook his head.

Dean chuckled. "C'mon ... we can't spend the whole day in bed."

Sam looked at him with a _why-not-expression_ on his face.

"Because I'm starving. - And you're still way too skinny.", Dean answered and slipped out of bed. The he freed himself from his night-gear (what meant a tee shirt and loose boxers), not caring that Sam was watching him.

The young man's cheeks flushed and turned into a deep pink, as he took in Dean's muscular form. Broad shoulders and strong arms and thights. Sam tore his look away as Dean covered himself with a plaid button-front shirt and into a pair of worn out jeans.

Sam frowned and looked at his fingers and hands. Maybe the hunter was right with that. His hands – at least – looked thin ...

* * *

It was a lazy saturday morning. Caleb was already halfway up and ready to go onto another hunt, while Jim sat at Bobby's table in the living-room and studied the dozens of papers with Sam's drawings and scribblings. Still not a little bit further with them.

Bobby was in the yard and tried to get his truck back together. And Ellen sat with the boys at the small table in the kitchen, having her breakfast with them.

Everything was just fine. As fine as it could be. And somehow ... it kind of was a little bit too fine for Dean's opinion. Not that he liked trouble ... but Abaddon had been clear about it, that she wouldn't give up that easy. So yeah .. the Winchester was aware that they weren't quite out of it. But maybe they were lucky for a change and Abaddon thought Sam was dead, since she shouldn't be able to track him down anymore.

Another thing were his nightmares – these started to bother him. Okay, last night he didn't have one – at least he couldn't remember. But all the other nights? To be honest, Dean started to feel weird about Sam. He was afraid that these nightmares were more than just dreams. That somehow this was how it was going to end. No, not that the Winchester was a psychic – no way. Though these dreams were vivid and odd. Just like he was suffering of PTSD or something. Like all this happened for real. Over and over again and he just couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop himself from hurting Sam – killing Sam.

A tickling feeling on his shin rose him out of his dark thoughts, and he looked up. Sam had his mouth full of waffles and gazed thru long bangs of hair over the table at the hunter. Wearing a small cheeky grin on his lips.

Dean cocked an eyebrow and it took him a couple of moments to connect the tickling feeling on his shin with the the grin on Sam's cheek. Damn it, the man had long legs.

"What you wanna do today, Sammy?", Dean asked and cleared his throat.

The younger man shrugged and pulled his leg back, glancing at Ellen.

"I thought ... - We might could help Pastor Jim with your ... with the spells you've written.", Dean said hesitantly, well noticing the sudden change in Sam's expression.

The young man laid the fork back at the plate and swallowed the half-bitten junk in his mouth. His face went blanc faster than Dean had ended his sentence anyway.

"It's important Sam. - Maybe you can help with it, hu? - Neither of us had ever seen spells like these. Maybe ... the things that you've written ... you could bring them into an order, so that it makes more sense?" Dean asked, well knowing that it probably took a lot out of Sam. But they needed to know. They needed to know how these spells worked and what they were for. Because in case that Abaddon thought Sam was dead, she'd look for another soultaker to use. And in case that she didn't, there might was something useful among these spells to kill that bitch.

Sam leaned back and nodded looking at the hands in his lab.

"It's really important, Hon. - We wouldn't ask you if it wouldn't.", Ellen's smoke-rough voice was heard. She bowed forward, trying to get a connection to Sam. But he refused to look up.

Dean lifted his foot and ghosted with his big toe down the side of Sam's leg, making him giggle and pull back. He gave the hunter a small smile. "Okay.", he said, his gaze locked with Dean's.

* * *

Sam sat on the couch, curled up, loose sheets scattered before him, holding one of them in his hands, while Dean and Jim had their noses buried in Bobby's old books.

He wanted to help. He really did. And he tried, tried so hard to put the words and the signs on the papers together to something useful. But he didn't know how, he couldn't remember. He just knew that it were spells. That the demons had used them. He didn't know what for. He didn't even know why he knew them.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut, trying to get his mind back to focus on what Dean wanted him to do. But it still was too difficult to concentrate longer than just a couple of minutes. He was always somewhere else with his mind ... and ... that fact didn't help any. It was so frustrating. So damn frustrating and he couldn't help it.

He sniffed and tried to hold back his tears. Sam thought to know that he was useless. He had always been and would always be. They had told him – they had told him that the only reason he lived was to die. And maybe they were right. Maybe he wasn't created to be useful, to be able to help ...

A single tear ran down over his cheek, as he rested his temple on the backrest of the couch and blinked at the other papers before him.

Something palpable formed in his mind about the sigils and signs. Also the words weren't meaningless to him anymore. He suddenly knew that he had to know what they meant. Because he had been there. He had been there when the spells were used. He didn't know when. Hell he couldn't remember how ... but he remembered the blood and lifeless bodies ...

"You alright there?", Dean asked worried and sat up in the recliner on the other side of the coffee-table.

Pastor Jim looked up and followed his friend's gaze to the couch. He frowned, as Sam wouldn't react to his friend's call.

Sam just blinked and continued to stare at the sheets. He didn't even realize someone was taking to him.

"Sam?" That was when Dean laid the book aside and went over to the couch. The young man was staring into nothingness. "Sammy?", he tried again, shoving the papers aside, so he wouldn't sit on them. "Hey, look at me." The hunter laid his hand on Sam's knee.

He didn't move, nor react in any way. His pupils dilated and his breath even and slow like he was asleep.

"C'mon, Sunshine.", Dean cupped the younger man's face in his hands and guided his head up to try and get eye contact.

But there was no way. It looked like Sam wasn't home right now, what let Dean's chest tighten.

"Sam.", he said – more demanding this time. The hunter's features darkened in anger and worry with a hint of panic.

He wouldn't let Sam come near that shit again. Not ever. Not even for a short glance. He should've known better. Only god knew what memories came back with the spells. Only god knew what happened back there when they were used. - Dean didn't want to think about. So he hadn't made Sam to think about it. Ever.

Sam blinked, his dilated pupils slowly started to tighten again. He drew in a long slow breath and blinked again. Focusing on Dean and the massive amount of concern written all over his face. He just smiled. Smiled like nothing had happened.

"You okay?", Dean asked confused.

Sam nodded. "It's a ritual. - It are spells. But all of them together make up the ritual." He blinked sleepily.

Dean pulled Sam into his arms and held him tight. "What happened?", he asked whispering.

"Just remembered.", Sam answered calmly, his eyelids getting heavy. "Remembered what happened ..."

"Sure?" Of course he didn't question Sam's answer – though he couldn't hide that he was still worried. If remembering meant being out of it, not reachable for others, than there was no way he'd make Sam to try to remember ever again.

"Yeah.", he breathed.

"Wanna get some rest?", Dean asked then, recognizing that the young man started to feel heavy in his embrace.

Sam nodded and sniffed. "I' sorry ... i don't know ... it's ...", he muttered into Dean's shoulder.

"It's okay, Sunshine.", Dean smiled – still concern crinkling his lips. "You'll get some sleep, okay?"

"Stay with me?", Sam whispered, so just Dean was able to hear it.

The hunter grinned. "Sure."

"You both okay over there?", Jim stood up, his long priest's robe falling over his black shoes. "Is Sam okay?" Concern let his voice vibrate with urgency.

Dean nodded and looked up, meeting the pastor's gaze. "Yeah ... - I'm tellin' you later."

Jim gave him a short nod, but didn't sit back down again.

So they went upstairs. Pastor Jim gathered the papers from the couch then and sat back at the table, laying the sheets out – one beside another - to get the bigger picture.

Upstairs, Sam crawled on the bed and stayed like he sank down on it, muffling something into the pillow. Dean settled down beside him, laying on his side, one hand on Sam's back. The younger man's eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze. And just like this his lips curled up and he smiled. Dimples and eyes so bright it was like they were reaching right into the hunter's heart and filled him with light and comfort. Just from looking at Sam.

With an airy sigh, the hunter laid his head down on the pillow very next to Sam's, his lips brushing gently over his forehead.

"What did you remember?", Dean asked softly.

"Blood.", Sam answered bluntly. "And drained corpses." He sighed, his smile fading. "Sigils drawn in the blood of the hunter's I murdered." With this a dark shadow laid over Sam's face. "Everything was coming to an end in the church. - I was meant to _die_ there. But I didn't."

Dean's expression darkened and he scooted closer, wrapping his arms protectively around Sam.

"It told me to let it happen. - It told me not to fight it. - It said i'd be at peace.", the younger man whispered sleepily. "The humans that would come to get me eventually down from the crucifix would release my soul." Sam blinked up at Dean. "But you didn't. - I think that's why Abaddon's mad." The last words just a silent slur before he drifted off to sleep in the hunter's arms.

Dean let out a shuddering breath and swallowed around the lump in his throat. His heart so tight it didn't dare to beat right then again. It tore at him that there was so much he didn't know yet about Sam's past. That there was so much the young man had to catch up with.

One thing after another, the hunter told himself, as soon as Abaddon was dead they'd had all the time in the world.

Dean sat up, leaving a hand on Sam's shoulder, not wanting to break the contact, while he reached with the other one for the blanket that was thrown over the footboard of the bed. He pulled it over Sam and himself, wrapping his arms around him again and nuzzled into the crazy shaggy mop of hair.

_... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 21 ~ The Dreams Origin **

Holy shit, he was fast. Dean gripped the shaft of the atame tighter, not leaving the prey out under his watch, while he dashed across the yard. His hunter-senses high alert, his gaze fixed on the form before him as a hawk's. He knew the salvage better than anyone. No one was able to beat him right here.

He got closer.

His prey was getting tired.

Dean sensed his chance and rounded a corner of stacked car-wrecks, dashing around another corner. He stopped in his tracks right before the edge. Calming his breath and heart down, drawing the blade closer to his chest. He heard his prey gasping for air, staggering.

_So close. So close._

He stepped out of the shadows and found himself on a cemetary. His prey kneeling just a couple of feet away from him, on the frozen ground. Red long hair hanging into its face. Blue-grey orbs pleading him for mercy. Hands bound with engraved shackles, attached to chains. An iron – also engraved - collar around its neck.

A broad grin formed on the hunter's face, eyes gleaming dangerously. His heart getting back into its calm and usual rhythm.

"Do it.", his prey said pleadingly. "You have to do it. - You have to release me, have to save me.", it demanded eagerly.

Dean kneeled down before it, burying his hand in the mop of slick hair, yanking its head back violently. And then ... without loosing another word, he drew the blade slowly into it's prey. Right below its solar plexus. Slow and painful as it deserved it.

He felt his soul rejoicing, his heart cheering at him for what was done by his hands. Only his. No one else have had the honor ...

And it was just then when he realized _what_ he had done. When he saw the fading live in big green hazel-eyes. When he felt the blood on his hand. Saw the atame plugging in _a familiar man's_ chest. The stain of blood rapidly soaking thru the plaid fabric around the blade relentlessly. Needless to even try to think that there was a way to save the man in his arms.

" _Oh god ... no ... Sam, no ... I'm sorry -_ " His eyes wide in horror, his hands trembling, as he wrapped his arms around _Sam_ , holding him gentle. Listening to the wheezing sounds of strangled inhales.

* * *

Dean gasped, fighting to take an inhale. " _Oh god ... no ..._ ", he panted, his eyes snapping open.

A split second later he felt hands on his face, on his chest. Warm gentle hands trying to wake him up. A familiar voice whispering soothing words into his ear.

"It's okay, Dean. - Wake up. I'm here. - I'm right here ... don't be mad, _please_.", Sam whispered, hot puffs of air against the hunter's neck. " _Please_ – don't be mad. I'm here."

"Sam.", fell from the hunter's lips. " _Oh god_ , Sammy ..."

He felt warm liquid running down his cheeks, wetting the pillow and Sam's hand. He turned his head to face the younger man beside him, wrapping him into his arms so tight it must've hurt. But he didn't care. Not right now. He had done it again. Had killed Sam again in his dreams ... and he just couldn't ...

"Shhh." Sam wrapped his arms around the hunter in return, tugging on the back of his shirt. "Nothing happened. - I'm here ..."

The hunter swallowed a sob, his body trembling. "Kiss me?", he choked out, sounding so pleading, so broken.

He just needed to _feel_ him. Feel Sam. _Feel_ that he was alive. _Feel_ that he was right here with him and breathing, that he haven't killed him for real. That it had just been another nightmare.

Sam smiled softly, his eyelids heavy since it was in the middle of the night and he was still tired. He laid a hand on dean's cheek, brushing the tears away. Then he sealed his lips over the hunter's. So gentle, so soft. Dean barely recognized it thru the haze of emotions that stumbled thru his head right now.

Sam tried to push his concern aside for the moment. Dean's nightmares were tearing on him ever since the first time he had woken up to the hunter screaming his name in terror. It was heartbreaking to see Dean that way. The dark circles under his eyes when he woke up the next morning. Sure they faded during the day ... and the hunter didn't talk about it. Didn't even mentioned once what his nightmares were about. Though Sam sensed that something was odd about it, that these dreams bothered the hunter even more as time went on.

The dreams had started a couple of days after he had woken up in the bed, attached to these weird machines and tubes. - The thought about the tubes let a shiver run over his spine. - Nonetheless ... The hunter never had dreams like that before. - Not that he remembered.

Dean leaned into Sam's touch and the kiss, holding him as close as possible, not wanting to let go. He'd never hurt him. Never again, he swore it to himself every time he woke up after a dream like this. There was no way in heaven or hell – not even if Sam would beg him for it – that he'd do such a thing.

When Dean's hiccups and sobs subsided, Sam pulled back a little, looking into emerald-green eyes like liquid crystals and rubbed once more over Dean's cheek, as he tilted his head back.

"I want you to feel better.", Sam whispered with a concerned frown on his forehead. "I don't like that you have these dreams. - They are making you sad."

Dean let out a soft broken chuckle and laid his hand on Sam's jaw. The little monster in his arms always knew what to say lately. Even when it seemed to be unconsciously. He just did. Always seemed so innocent and ... just adorable. He was so ... pure.

"Me too, Sammy." The hunter brushed with his lips tenderly over Sam's forehead, letting them rest right there. "I don't like it too."

"Can I ...", Sam's voice broke and his eyes flickered black for a split moment, like they always did when he was about to ask something of what he wasn't sure was okay to ask for. He looked up, his eyes pitch-black. "What are your dreams about?"

Dean's face went serious, his expression darkened. "Sam. - Please ..." _Ask me anything but not this ..._

"I want to help you. - Maybe i can _help_ ..." Sam looked at him so eager and about five hears younger right now. " _Please_ let me help."

The hunter tangled his fingers in Sam's hair, taking him in closely. He couldn't tell him. Just couldn't. These dreams were already starting to freak himself out. If he told Sam about them, he'd run for the hills. Or even worse: He'd hide, wouldn't let him come close again.

Sam's look became somehow ... _self-willed_?

"Please ..." _Wasn't Dean trusting him?_ "You aren't trusting me ... right?" Sam's face became a little bit pale.

"No, Sam. - It's not ... it's just ..." The hunter shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. "It's bad – what I dream about are bad things. I'm doing bad things. - It're just dreams anyway."

Sam seemed to get suspicious. - _Suspicious_? Stubborn and Suspicious? Holy hell, did he really had to start with that shit now?

"But this dreams make you shiver, make you scream, make you call for me. This dreams make you different.", Sam said backing away a little bit more. "I see YOU. And YOU are ... you are sad."

"Stop it, okay? Please stop it." Dean got demanding and louder as he actually wanted to. But the kid was teasing the living shit out of him. Why had it to be just now for Sam to develop some backbone?

" **No** ...", Sam said hesitantly, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Sam, don't tempt me.", Dean said thru gritted teeth.

This was important and not the right moment to show that he was afraid. That he'd prefer to hide away instead of demanding things. This was _Dean_. _Dean_ who meant so much to him, so much that it started to physically hurt to see the hunter like this. So **no**. He wouldn't back off. Maybe Dean would get mad at him. Would push him away again. But he'd take it. He'd take it as long as he would tell him what was going on.

Sam blew out a shuddering sigh, gathering all his guts. " _Please Dean_. - I see that it bothers you. And it gets worse ... I can handle it. No matter what it is."

That was it. Dean had actually enough. Couldn't he just shut the fuck up?

The hunter literally jumped out of the bed, hot air puffing from his nose. - What Sam said sounded kind of cute if it wasn't about the serious situation that it obviously was.

"Fine ..." Dean strained his voice to stay low and not to yell. "It's _you_. I'm **killing** _you_. Every single night in my dreams. Either i **kill** you or I find you **murdered**. _Your blood on my hands_. - Or ... or we're chasing each other until one of us' giving up. - And Abaddon ..." He rubbed with his hand over his face and shook his head, waiting for the bed to squeak, that showed that Sam had drew back into his corner again, since he had abandoned the cot. "And this damn knife ... it's ... _oh god_ -"

Sam paled, eyes widening and swallowed down the fast building lump in his throat. A _knife_ ... It didn't matter right now. This was about Dean. Just about Dean, and not about his fears and the growing panic in his stomach.

"And ... i just can't Sam. - I'd never do that ... I ..." He didn't dare to look at Sam. See his beautiful orbs soaked in fear all over again. See him withdrawing from him. "You gotta believe me that I'd never lay a hand on you. _Ever_. I'd rather die than hurting you like this."

"It's okay.", a tiny voice reached him from the bed after a few moments. "It are just dreams, you said."

Dean frowned confused and turned around to face the young man in the dark on the bed curiously.

Big hazel-eyes looked at him. Though Sam couldn't hide a glint of fear in his expression. He held his hand out towards the hunter, glancing asking at him. - _Waiting_.

That was not exactly what Dean had expected.

" _Please_." So silent, so insecure, it broke Dean's heart to hear him like this. Sam should never feel like this. " _I need you._ "

Dean gave a weak smile and after another moment he went back to bed, slipping under the comforter and tugged Sam close. He felt the younger man get comfortable in his arms. There was no tension, no recognizable fear in the younger man's posture. He didn't shiver, nor tremble nor cry.

The hunter lowered his head, ghosting with his nose over Sam's forehead, closed eyes, nose and finally he found what he was looking for. He gently placed his lips over Sam's, feeling him move and shift and finally, with gentle force he leaned into the kiss. Licking over Dean's bottom lip, asking for entrance.

And Dean let him.

He let Sam in, let him explore his teeth, tongue and lips gingerly until he drew back and settled back against Dean's chest, listening to the slowing thumps of the hunter's heart.

And Dean let him.

With anyone else he wouldn't have left it that way. With anyone else he would've fought for domination, would've dared to go further. But not with Sam. It was different with him. It was bluntly amazing and beautiful and ... _unique_. Those feelings were just possible with him and no one else.

"I love you.", Dean whispered and buried his fingers in the younger man's hair.

Sam tugged on his shirt, smiling into the hunter's chest, high alert. All tiredness gone ever since Dean had mentioned the knife in his dreams. So he pretended to fall asleep, let his breaths even out like he had done when he was with the black-eyed beasts. He didn't like to pretend and somehow it felt like betraying the hunter.

But he had to know. Had to be sure. Had to know that this wasn't one of Abaddon's tries to get to him. To the hunter's friends. _To Dean_. He had to know if Dean was dreaming about the blade they had used to drain the hunters and smear their blood over the walls of consecrated buildings ...

* * *

Sam didn't fall asleep that night. And it felt like eternity until the hunter's soothing caressing subsided. As much as he loved Dean's gentle touches. As much as they lured him into sleep. He wasn't allowed to.

So he stayed still, until he was sure that the hunter was far away – hopefully somewhere these dreams wouldn't be able to reach him – and sneaked out under his arm, out of the bed and downstairs. Sam was as silent as possible. His hands clumsy and shaky. But he had to do this. Had to find out before he told Dean or the others.

So yeah. He went into the living room wich southern wall was plastered with shelves and books of all ages. But before he'd start his research he needed to draw it. Draw the atame whose portrayal ghosted thru his mind and wouldn't let him go.

* * *

Dean woke with a start. His arms empty. No radiating warmth beside him under the bedding and comforter. No Sam nuzzling into his chest. No protesting tugging on his shirt as he sits up to scan the room for movement or a curled up human ball in the corner farthest from the door.

Dean's breath caught in his lungs, a bile of panic rose from his guts streight up into his chest to tighten around his racing heart.

"Sam.", fell softly from his lips. Filled with fear, shock and despair.

The hunter threw back the covers and jumped out of the bed, drawing his knife from under the pillow to fight or ... actually he didn't think that he'd need it. Bobby's house was safer - than Fort Knox was for thieves - now. So he threw the knife back on the bed, hurrying into the corridor, checking the bathroom before he gripped the upper end of the banister – panting.

He wasn't there. Sam wasn't there. He wouldn't run from him, _would he_? After all he had told him what he was dreaming about every night. That he was murdering him. And Sam had been so calm. A little pale at first but so calm and ... he hadn't acted the way he should. Hell, Dean would've run for the hills. He would've run and would've never looked back. _But he wasn't Sam._

And the young man had seemed so ... so not like he would flee from him.

Dean took deep breaths to calm himself down. _In and out._

Sam had been improving. Maybe he didn't need Dean anymore for going downstairs alone in the morning. Maybe something had woken him ... OR something had taken him.

Dean's heart sped up again. He had to think rational. **First** check the house, then the yard and ... That was when he heard a dump thump from downstairs.

The hunter swallowed, his attention immediately snapping his gaze to the foot of the stairs. But neither his mind - yelling at him to take it easy, not to freak out - nor his heart – telling him that everything was okay, that he should go slow – could hinder him from taking three steps at a time and dashing around the corner into the living room, where he caught himself from toppling over as his gaze fell on the tall men on the couch.

_Sam._

A heavy weight fell from his chest the moment his mind pointed out that it had been right. That nothing bad had happened.

Sam lay on the couch on his back, fast asleep. Two books beside him on the floor. Another one scattered open, resting on his ribcage. A sheet of paper on the coffee table beside him. One hand holding the book, another one tangling from the edge, fingers tipping on the wooden floor. Like the young man had fallen asleep while reading.

A relieved smile built on Dean's face and lit his features up, letting the threatening panic vanish from his countenance.

Dean tiptoed towards him, trying to avoid the floorboards that were lose and creaking. So softly he laid his fingers on the book, ready to shut it close and to lay it aside. But in the very same moment Sam's eyes flew open and braced the book against his body like he was about to lose something of greatest importance.

First there was shock and fear in his face, but it rapidly softened as he saw the hunter above him.

"I found it ...", was the first thing Sam managed to get out. "I found it ..."

Dean looked at him confused and frowned, still in a haze of being half asleep and half awake he took Sam's form in. That was when he realized that Sam must've gotten not so much sleep.

"What did you find?", he asked and sat down on the very edge on the couch to Sam's feet.

"The atame ... the poniard ...", Sam answered, but just earned a confused look of the hunter. "The knife.", he added then, inching backwards and sat up.

It took another moment before Dean's mind jumped in and the wheels started to turn again. "Why? ... How do you ...?"

Sam laid the book into his lap and pointed at a draft on the page. Then he glanced at the outlined drawing he made by himself on the table before him.

"That's it, isn't it?", he asked hesitating and handed the book to Dean, who took it without saying anything – not even looking up.

That was when it hit Sam, and he watched him, trying to figure out what Dean was thinking right now. - After all ... maybe he hadn't been allowed to get up? Hadn't been allowed to take Bobby's books ... Or : Maybe the hunter knew about the knife and just didn't tell him last night ...

Dean's features remained unreadable.

"How did you know?" Dean's voice sounded thin and calm, completely powerless.

Sam looked down on himself, tangling the fingers of his hands together. "I didn't know ... it was just ... a feeling?"

Dean nodded. Just nodded and didn't say anything for a long time. His gaze remained glued to the page in the book, and Sam wouldn't try to steal a glance at the hunter either.

"May I?", Dean looked up, his emerald-green eyes so big and sad with dark half circles under them. He looked at Sam while he pointed at the sheet of paper on the coffee table.

Sam nodded and reached for it to hand it over to the hunter, who looked at it closely for another long time. Then he folded the paper and laid it in between the pages as a bookmark before he closed it.

"You look tired, Sam." The hunter looked up again to meet his gaze and gave him a weak smile. "What about you go upstairs and try to get some more sleep and i'll talk to Bobby about this." He held the book up a little, then rubbed over his face with a heavy sigh.

Sam shook his head, still staring into his lap. "It's the atame ... isn't it?" Now he looked up, scanning the hunter for reactions.

He nodded. "Yeah ... it's the knife I saw." ... but his face remained blanc of emotions for the moment.

"The others are still asleep ... I could make breakfast for all of us. - You could go and take a shower and so ...", Sam said carefully, looking back down. "And ... later i could help Pastor Jim with the papers ..." He shot a glance at Bobby's desk to his right, wich was occupied by the Pastor from the early morning into the latest night. "Maybe I'll remember more. - If I don't try to push the memories away ..."

"No, Sam.", Deans voice was calm and warm, though his words remained determined. "I mean ... yes to breakfast, shower and stuff. - But NO to the papers. Your flashbacks are scaring the crap out of me." Yeah he was honest. This weren't just memories. These were flashbacks. Sam was gone too far, sunken in whatever had happened in the past, when he pushed himself to remember about the things he had decided not to let back into his mind. So NO to the papers.

Sam nodded. "Okay ... then ... I'll make the breakfast then ..." He didn't stand up immediately. It was like Sam was waiting for something.

A saucy grin built up on Dean's lips ... There had been no good-morning kiss yet ... He couldn't leave it that way. So he stood up and made two steps forward, laying the book aside, and then bowed over Sam, who looked up at him.

Big innocent hazel-orbs watching him closely, and blinked at him asking, when Dean lowered himself, lifting one leg over Sam's and putting it between backrest and the younger man's legs, so that he was directly over him. The hunter sealing his big cushions over Sam's tender rose ones, who laid his hand on Dean's neck and pulled him down, to deepen the kiss.

Dean shoved his arm under the younger male's lower back, as he arched from the couch, pressing himself against the hunter. And _oh my god_ , that felt like heaven. Sam made a happy sound into the kiss, parting his lips to let the hunter's tongue in. Sam's hand slipped under the hem of his shirt, caressing the hunter's lower back.

Dean's warm soft skin on his, feeling him that way ... it was ... amazing. There was no other word Sam was able to use for this. It always sent shivers down his spine when they kissed, it always felt special and something inside him called for more.

A low guttural moan rose from the depths of Dean's throat as he felt Sam's fingers and palm on the bare skin of his back, sending millions of tiny jolts up his spine and spread over his skin, crying for more. Deans hand slipped under the tee of Sam's shirt, feeling the tender hairs right under his navel and the soft skin, broken by scars. The hunter parted from Sam's lips, catching his breath for just a moment, before he started to ghost his lips over the younger man's yaw and neck, nuzzling and licking a trail down to the collar of his shirt, feeling Sam's warm body against his.

_This was priceless._

Sam arched his head back to give the hunter better access to the sensitive skin on the side of neck and adams apple. A soft moan fell from the younger man's lips as Dean's fingers ghosted over his stomach and up towards his ribcage under the shirt. The hunter settled his hands on Sam's flanks, moving them gently upwards on the sides of his ribcage, taking the tee with them.

And holy mother of ... Dean needed all his god-given willpower to not topple over the edge right there, with Sam making these soft little sounds beneath him, arching his hips against the hunters with every touch on his warm skin.

Finally – Dean's lips found their way back onto Sam's, taking them in, feeling Sam lean into the kiss with heavy breaths thru his nose. There was no way to ignore the decent changes in his lower department anymore. Sam knew this was wrong that he wasn't allowed to and if the hunter continued that way ...

Dean felt Sam's erection against his own, pressing down on him just moments before he realized that the young man below him had stopped to move against him. He lay completely still, just kissing him back and holding the hunter close with his long arms and gigantic hands on his shoulder blades. So the hunter – as much as it hurt him, as much willpower as he needed to stop – wouldn't go any further.

When their lips parted, Sam beamed up at him, a little bit of shame lingering in his big bright orbs.

Dean shifted a little, taking some of his weight off of Sam – wich he didn't even recognized he had put on him - and reached up, tangling the fingers of both of his hands in Sam's soft hair, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

The young man below him purred blissfully.

"I'm a starving man, Sammy." Dean's voice was husky and low, his eyes searching the younger man's face and eyes, wearing a soft smile on his swollen lips. _Damn it_... it was too easy to get lost in those eyes and all his dimples ... The hunter cleared his throat. "What about ... breakfast?" Even though he haven't meant actually food as he was talking about being a starving man.

_... to be continued_


	6. Chapter 6

** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 22 ~ Brownies **

Dean Winchester had spent enormous forty-five minutes under the shower. And holy crap, he had needed the time to get himself back to normal. To calm down his visible arousal. There was no way in hell he'd go down there like this … First off: because it'd distract himself enough to not be able to eat his breakfast and second: Somehow he thought Sam could take it the wrong way.

Even when the soultaker seemed to be okay with some stuff – hell he even seemed to enjoy things … There was still this expression lingering in Sam's eyes that made Dean think that – even when he didn't show it consciously – that he was scared. And the hunter didn't want Sam to be scared. Not of him, not of anything ever again.

And most of all not of _THIS_. He looked down on himself, as he turned the water off.

* * *

When he came downstairs, there was already the seducing smell of bacon, scrambled eggs and coffee, mixed with something sweet. Dean wore a dreamy smile on his lips, his eyes covered in a haze, as he crossed the threshold into the kitchen, seeing Sam who just got the coffee ready to be served. The hunter closed up behind Sam and wrapped his arms around him from behind loosely.

The young man froze for a moment until he noticed that it was Dean who had wrapped his arms around him. Gently and not rough. Sometimes Sam wanted to punch himself for being that … uneasy and afraid of things that seemed for others completely normal.

Ellen passed Dean from behind, who didn't even realize just yet that the others were already up and about to get their stomaches filled.

„About time, Son." Ellen grabbed the plate with the pancakes from the cupboard and shot him a broad grin, as she turned around on her heels. „Thought i'd have to kick your ass out of the bathroom.", and with that she was out of the kitchen and on her way into the dining room.

„Smells good." Dean stepped beside Sam, letting one arm wrapped around his lower back, his hand resting on the younger man's hip.

Sam smiled at him with glistening bright eyes. „I'd like to go outside a little bit later today." His words filled with hope.

They haven't been outside – except the porch – ever since they got back to Bobby's. Just because Dean refused to let Sam leave the most safest place he knew.

„I don't know ..." Dean hesitated and frowned concerned. „It's not exactly save for you out there."

Sam's smile faded slowly, sadness settled over his features. Even if he felt sparks of freedom with Dean. He still felt caged somehow. It wasn't like with the black-eyed monsters. Though … somehow he wished they were still at the cabin or anywhere else where no one would ever be able to find them. He wanted to see the skies above him, feel the snow in his fingers, smell the cold winter-air that's filling his lungs.

The hunter felt like he just had taken a big fat bone away from a small puppy … like he was the most mean person in the damn world. He hated himself for it, but he also would hate himself even more if something would happen out there in case that someone knew that they were back at the salvage and would try to take Sam from him.

„Yeah … you're right. - It's not save." Sam gave him a sad smile and took the pot of coffee from the cupboard. „Breakfast?"

Dean nodded and tabbed the younger man's hip. „Sure."

* * *

Later that morning they went outside and took a walk on the yard. The hunter held Sam's hand tight in his, not letting go for a moment. His senses strained and ready to draw his gun whatever would appear or not to cause trouble. - So that Sam was able to enjoy himself a little.

It didn't last long. Just about half an hour before Dean felt a tightening uneasiness in his chest and twistings guts and urged Sam to go back inside. Though to keep the younger man occupied he suggested to bake brownies. Not something a Winchester would've done usually.

But it was something he haven't had in about a century and Sam didn't know them yet. So yeah, why not baking brownies ala Winchester.

Not that Dean had a clue how to make them anyway. So with one of Ellen's receipts it should be no problem. While he searched for the ingredients, he let Sam melt the chocolate.

„Let me have a spoon full, hu?", Dean asked, saliva gathering in his mouth, as Sam mixed up the pastry.

„No.", Sam answered bluntly and poured hazelnuts on the cutting board.

„Let me have a nut?", Dean asked with a broad grin.

Sam nodded, completely drowning in the task before him.

A second later Dean had a hand full of them in his fist and shoved them into his mouth, groaning.

Bobby didn't have chopped hazelnuts, so he had to chop them by himself. He took one of the sharpest looking kitchen-knifes from the drawer and started to try to cut every single one in at least four pieces.

Dean chuckled beside him and shook his head. But refused to help him right there. Sure he could've showed Sam how to do it, but that would've been just half the fun.

After the fourth nut Sam had enough and just shoved them together in the middle of the board, starting to carefully cut criss cross thru the nuts until they weren't that big anymore. Then – it looked more than just violently - he started to hack them noisy, chasing the biggest junks with the blade over the board.

Dean went for a cake pan in the meantime. As it turned out, Bobby had them buried under about a hundred pans and pots in the lowest cupboard in the farthest corner. The hunter stuck already half inside the cupboard with his torso, his grip tightening about the pan he had been looking for, as he heard a pained silent outcry and metal hitting the kitchen-tiles.

He was back up on his feet in an instant, swirling around on his heels to check on Sam, who stood there – frozen. The knife to his feet and a small red droplet beside it. Like in slow motion Dean saw another one fall to to the ground, and another one short after.

„Aw, shit, Sam.", Dean muttered.

The pan fell from his hand and a split second later he was in front of the young man, who was holding his hand, staring stuttered into the hunter's face and back at the injury that was drawing blood like crazy.

An angry looking gash on in his palm was bleeding furiously. Not that it would've cost his life or that it was a bad injury. Not at all. But though … it could get infected and blood poisoning wasn't a thing you wanted to have. Not humans, nor monsters.

Dean grabbed a clean kitchen towel from the drawer next to him and wrapped it around Sam's hand.

„Keep pressure on it. - I'm gonna get the first aid kit.", was all Dean said before he was gone, just to return a moment later with the kit in front of Sam. „C'mon, kiddo. - Sit down and let me see."

Sam sat down at the table. Still stuttered and a little bit pale around the nose. The hunter sat down in front of him and grabbed his wrist gently, pulling his hand down. He glanced up at Sam – one of his bangs fallen into his face – AGAIN. Not that Dean complained. He loved Sam's hair … it was just … too long.

Dean brushed the bang behind Sam's ear, before he went back to the task at hand. The hunter unwrapped the younger male's hand, eying the still bleeding long cut closely.

„How the hell did you do that?", he asked and shook his head.

No answer.

With a sigh Dean opened the kit and prepared the antiseptic fluid, sterile swabs and gauze. And damn it – he had to sew it up. It wasn't _that_ deep but deep enough.

„That's gonna get a little bit unpleasant, Sunshine." He looked up at Sam, seeing tears gathering in the man's eyes. „It's nothing bad. - Can happen when you handle sharp things." He tried to smile, trying to figure out what was going on in the Sasquatch's head.

But Sam didn't say anything. Just stared at the hunter. „Though we've to sew it up, okay?"

Sam nodded hesitantly.

So Dean did what he had to do. Sewing the cut up, putting some antiseptic ointment on it and laid a clean swap over it, wrapping it up with gauze. Sam didn't even blink while he did so. He just stared, and gave him a wary smile when they were done.

„Thanks." he pulled his hand from Dean and laid it into his lap, looking at it. „Have you talked to Bobby about your dreams yet?"

Dean shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. „Not yet. - But I will. - When I'm alone with him." The hunter petted Sam's knee and smiled reassuring. „We gonna finish the brownies?"

Sam nodded with a small smile, his eyes so big and sad. For a moment he kept sitting in front of the younger man, watching him closely. „What is it?", he asked finally with soft voice.

Sam looked up and tilted his head to the side. „Nothing … just … i think I'm just tired that's all."

Dean nodded, laying a hand on Sam's cheek, who instantly leaned into the soft and warm touch. „How did you do THIS anyway?", he asked as he got up from the chair and walking over to the pan on the floor.

Sam shrugged. „Tried to stop the nuts from rolling off of the cupboard … and the knife came in the way.", he answered silently, as he watched Dean whipping the blood from the tiles.

Dean shook his head and laid the pan beside the bowl with pastry. „Uhuuu.", he said confidently, his look glued to the inside of the bowl.

Sam stood up and walked over to him, taking the chopping board and poured the nuts into the pastry, then he mixed them together a little. And just to be sure that the brownies would taste as the pastry looked like, he dove with his finger into the tough mass, just to bring him back up to his mouth and lick and suck the thick layer of chocolate-brown mass off. And if this wasn't enough, Sam did the same to the spatula. Right in front of Dean. And Sam took his time to clean the damn thing pretty nice and slow, like he wanted to tease the hunter with his tongue on the damn spatula. Though all the younger man's attention was focused on licking – even the tiniest stripe of chocolate pastry – from the spatula.

And holy fucking shit. - Dean would've nearly lost it right there. Maybe it had been just because he haven't got laid in a while … or maybe because it was Sam who was doing this and was obviously totally unaware of what kind of effect this had on the hunter.

When he was done with the spatula, he laid it aside and blinked up at Dean, whose look was still glued to the kitchen tool. Sam looked at the hunter and followed his gaze towards the spatula.

„Oh …." he looked a little bit unsure. „I'm sorry … I … you wanted to lick it off?"

Dean looked up at him – a little bit helpless, feeling another wave of arousal flooding his lower appartement.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed, he looked at the hunter asking.

Oh god … how could he possibly look that innocent after all? Like he had done nothing wrong … and of course Sam had done nothing wrong. Everybody was licking pastry from damn spatulas, right? He guessed that every damn minute in the USA at least one spatula got liked off. _Damn it._

Dean chuckled hoarsely and cleared his throat. „No … I … I just – I think i just got caught in the moment."

Sam beamed up as if a light-bulb got on over his head and dove his finger into the thick brown pastry to the first knuckle and held it towards Dean's mouth. „It tastes good."

Big innocent eyes were looking at him. And damn it … why was it getting this hard lately to be around Sam all the freaking time (Without his best friend giving standing ovations)?

Dean stared first at the finger, then at Sam and back again at the finger. He couldn't be serious, could he? Did Sam even had just a spark of an idea what this was doing to the hunter?

Sam looked at him with wide eyes, waiting, smiling. The most adorable dimples all over his face, and lips … The hunter stopped himself from trailing off before it was definitely to late for him.

„That good, hu?", he asked, his voice dropped for another octave.

Sam nodded … then something changed and the light in the younger man's eyes faded, his finger lowered. „My mom … The woman that _pretended_ to be my mom … She never let me lick out the bowl or so … she always said I would get fat if I'd do that … She said ..." He blinked, his eyes watering, and looked up at Dean with a pained smile.

And with that, before Sam was able to keep on talking, Dean gripped Sam by the wrist and lunged forward with his mouth to get his finger in, sucking and licking the pastry off of it. A low moan escaped Dean's throat as he pulled Sam's finger out again.

„Holy crap." He breathed. „That's … that tastes … amazing.", and with this words he let go of Sam's wrist.

Sam was still smiling a little as he turned around to the cupboard to fill the pan and gave Dean a weak smile as he turned back around.

They cleaned the dishes and the kitchen after Dean had put the pan into the oven. Then they settled down in the living-room. Both of them a mug of coffee in their hands and watching TV. Some old black and white movie was playing. A man was dancing and singing for a woman he was in love with.

Some time in between the hunter put the pan out of the oven, thinking about Sam and the spatula … and hells yeah, that was a memory to remember for eternity. Giving himself a couple of minutes to cool down again, he went back into the living-room to return onto the couch.

Sam nestled into Dean's flank and wrapped his long arms around the hunter's ribcage. „I'm happy, Dean. - Right now I'm happy.", Sam whispered with a smile on his lips. „I wasn't that happy in a while, you know?" He loosened his grip and turned around, resting his head in the hunter's lap, looking up at him. „I'm happy with you."

Dean looked down into his lap, smiling, stroking Sam's hair gently. „Me too, Sunshine.", Dean gave back, melting into Sam's gaze.

Damn it … he looked so happy. So young. As if he was a normal man under normal circumstances. But Sam wasn't. He was nothing but normal and both of them knew. That was why this was special. Why _to-be-happy_ was special for Sam. And so it was for Dean Winchester.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 23 ~ Books And Reality **

Later that night – Sam was already fast asleep in their bedroom – when Dean had sneaked downstairs with a book in his hands, well knowing that Bobby would still breed over some curious cases in the newspapers.

He told the old man about his nightmares (about whom he didn't seem surprised to be told). He just said „ _About time you're talking to me about that, Son_ ". But when he heard about the atame, and the matter of subject in Dean's dreams, the older hunter went silent and pensive. As any other hunter of his age and experience – including the facts they have already gathered about Abaddon, the spells and the ritual – he told Dean that it had to be some kind of spell.

Fortunately Abaddon loved spells. What wasn't a big surprise. After all what Bobby had found out, Abaddon was a witch before her soul went to hell, got tortured and ended up as a _knight of hell_. That was probably one of the reasons why she was able to change her hosts like underwear. She must've found a way to detach the bindings to the host she had been summoned into.

For the other problem … Bobby had no clue yet. Sure was, that Abaddon hadn't laid a spell like this without purpose on the hunter. Sure was too, that there had to be a way to break the spell. But until they knew how, they would try to block her ability to mess up Dean's sleeping skills and in the end probably his behaviour. Since he felt himself change slightly ...

There were these moments, when Dean found himself thinking about stuff he thought he shouldn't. Things that'd probably reveal him and Sam. Feelings that would high likely make himself wary about Sam. Thoughts he didn't want to support were popping up in his mind since about two days ago. Thoughts about the possibility that Sam was a monster after all, that he had killed other's – _humans_. And that he deserved to be punished or to die. Thoughts he had stopped at the thoughts roots before he allowed them to grow.

So the both of them had figured, that something like this was Abaddon's plan.

So yes. _This had to stop._

There was no way Dean would let Abaddon destroy what he had reached with Sam. _Damn it_ , he loved that man too much to let any kind of bad seed grow inside of him against Sam.

They talked and researched until deep into the night. Until Dean was giving in into exhaustion and tiredness and went back to bed. Back to Sam, who was sitting on their nightrest as he entered. He leaned with his back against the headboard, curled up into a tight ball, his eyes black as the darkest night. His cheeks wet with shed tears. His eyes still glistening with their remains in the poor illuminated room.

„Sam? You alright?", Dean frowned and narrowed quickly.

The younger man just nodded and wiped over his cheeks, giving Dean a weak smile. „Just a nightmare." He sniffed and wiped with the corner of the bedding over his eyes.

The hunter crawled under the covers, guiding Sam downwards, until he was laying with his back against Dean's chest. Drawing him closer with an arm, as he nuzzled into the younger man's hair, inhaling its scent of cheep shampoo and something that was typically Sam.

„You wanna talk about it?", Dean whispered and kissed the back of Sam's neck.

Sam shook his head. _No_. - They had bigger problems right now. _Like Dean's nightmares._

„I thought they were gone?", Dean got on asking after while.

Sam shook his head again. - He didn't want to talk about it. So _no_.

A shuddering sigh fell from the hunter's lips, brushing over Sam's scalp and let goosebumps rise all over his body.

„You should've told me. - I … I wouldn't have left you alone." He should've known. There was no way that someone who had endured that much pain and abuse was able to get over it in just a couple of weeks or even months. Something like this was nudging on someone for years probably. - Or maybe even a whole lifetime.

Sam pressed his back into the hunter's body, who was holding him protectively from behind.

„I talked to Bobby about the dreams. And he thinks that it probably got something to do with a spell … and Abaddon. - Maybe a plan to split us up, or do whatever she has planned to get the ritual done." Dean explained calmly. He slipped with his hand under Sam's sleeping shirt and laid a hand on his stomach, feeling the warmth of the younger man's body soaking slowly into his skin.

Sam laid his hand over the older male's and tangled his finger with his, giving into the feels of being save and loved. „If it's a spell … can we break it somehow?"

Dean frowned. Actually he didn't plan to break the spell. At least not now. Whatever Abaddon's purposes were … they might should play along for while until they figured out a way to get to her. Because he knew, there'd be no way she'd give up as long as Sam was alive. He knew he had to destroy her to be free.

And now since they had the proof that she was a knight of hell, they needed to find a way to kill that bitch. His makeshift bullets may were able to hold her in her host but nothing more. And his knife wouldn't work on her either. So they had to find another way. And if they wouldn't, they had to find a way, to at least lock her away from humanity.

„No, not now, Sunshine." The hunter squeezed Sam's fingers gently. „But we will. - Don't you worry."

* * *

Sam stood in front of the wooden door – hesitating. It wasn't like it was a daily thing. He wasn't even sure if it was a thing. Maybe Ellen would lough about his question(s), or would kick him streight out of her room. But he didn't know with whom he should talk else.

It wasn't like he couldn't talk to Dean or something … it was just because it was Dean and because it was about the hunter … and these feelings and … yeah well, pretty everything else too. And Ellen seemed like she knew _sooo_ much. And maybe she could help him explain things that were going on with him.

That was when he made another attempt to knock on her door, but let his hand sink again as he went on thinking. Maybe Dean wouldn't want that he was talking to anyone about that … Not that he was afraid of the hunter. Not even a little bit anymore. But there were so many things he didn't know yet.

_And that fact was scaring him …._

„I can hear you think, you know?", came a smoke-rough voice from the other side. „Might as well come in?"

Sam hesitated. How could she know? Had he been too loud? He looked down on the door and back up at the door-handle. So he gathered all his guts and pushed it down with his good hand, walking into the room slowly and shut the door behind him again.

Ellen was sitting on a small bed in the tiny spare room. She looked at him inviting and petted beside her on the comforter, showing Sam that she wanted him to sit down.

„What is it, hon?", she said, as Sam had sat down beside her. „What's making you pace forth and back in front of my room for over half an hour now?"

Sam looked at her with wide eyes, trying to think what he wanted to ask her. Somehow everything vanished behind a curtain of shame and embarrassment. He looked down into his lab, where he had his hands resting and pinched around on the gauze on his left hand palm.

She chuckled and petted his knee. „You know you can ask me everything ..."  
Sam wanted to shake his head for **NO**. But actually a small „ _Yes_." left his lips.

After a long while of silence she looked at Sam. „It's about you and Dean?" Something like concern built up on her face.

Sam nodded hesitantly. He shouldn't sit here. He shouldn't have even tried to talk about THIS to Ellen. Dean would be mad at him about that. So mad.

„Is everything okay between the both of you?"

Sam frowned and looked up. „Yeah."

„So what is it then?"

The young man's cheeks blushed violently, as he felt the heat rising on his face. „It's …" A sigh fell from his lips. „It's nothing. I shouldn't have come ...", and with this he was on his feet.

Wouldn't it have been for Ellen to grab Sam's wrist and pull him back down, he would've fled from the room and probably from the house as well.

„The hell you're going now." She searched for his look, trying to make eye-contact. „What is it? - Did you both had a fight?"

Sam shook his head. „No. - It's …" _Now or never_. „It are the feelings I have." He looked down on himself, his gaze caught on his private parts.

With that Ellen let go of Sam's wrist, eyes wide in surprise, now suddenly obviously uncomfortable with the topic. „Ohhh ..." She inched back a little and blew out a warm breath thru her nose. „That's … well …"

„See?", Sam asked silently. „It's not okay to talk about that ..."

Ellen chuckled. „Nah – it's not okay to talk about that with someone you don't know or trust. - But it's completely okay to talk about that with me. - So …"

„I see you as someone I can trust.", Sam threw in, his look searching her face desperately.

She chuckled again. „Okay … so … what do you wanna know? - I mean … i can't tell you specific things … but – i can give you … outlines."

Sam nodded understanding. „I know how it works, okay?", he said tentatively. „But … It's different with Dean and … Back THERE it was … it was simple, **they** just took what they wanted. _It_ just took what _it_ wanted ..."

Ellen nodded understanding – even when she didn't exactly wanted to imagine what Sam was talking about. „Does Dean want something like this from you?", she asked, watching Sam's face closely.

A flash of terror crossed the younger man's face. „I … I don't know, Ellen. - And if he wants to … what am I supposed to do then?" Now he sounded worse than just desperate.

„So you both don't have … you know ..." She waved with her hand in the empty air beside her head.

Sam shook his head and glanced up at her.

„You just tell him what you want and what you don't want.", she tried to explain. „Just let your intuition take control …"

„But … I don't know _HOW_ ..." He started to tug on the gauze again. „I … don't know what to do ...", he tried to explain himself. „And he always says he loves me, when he thinks that I'm asleep. I …" Tears prickled in his eyes.

Ellen sighed and petted Sam's leg, looking at him softly. „Look … it's … this tingling feeling in your tummy when you kiss. Butterflies in your stomach when he smiles at you. Thousands of jolts running over your skin when he touches you. And the warm comfortable feeling in your chest that you get when he holds you tight.", she explained softly, catching Sam's gaze. „That's what you call love." She tried to read in Sam's eyes. „It that what you're feeling with him?"

Sam nodded slowly and a wide smile spread over the huntress' face. „It feels like so much more, Ellen. - It's just … i didn't feel that ever before. - and then … when we kiss lately … it's … it's growing and ..."

First the huntress didn't seem to understand. - She just stared at him confused. Just as she repeated „ _It's growing_ " silently, her eyes widened and her mouth formed a small „ _o_ ". „Oh ...", she said rather surprised. Definitely more uncomfortable with the topic, she shifted on the bed a bit, obviously trying to think about how to express the next part. „That's … _good_." She gave him a nervous smile. „That happens when you like someone at times, you know?"

Sam shook his head hesitantly. Obviously confused by the whole things that were changing right now. „No … it's … _I can't_." He gave her a meaningful look.

Ellen was well aware that this wasn't as easy as she wished it was. Would it have been her fifteen year old son talking to her about that (what would've been never happening, since the kids today knew a whole lotta more about sex than she did probably), she would have just said: „Go and try things out." But she knew that wouldn't work at Sam. Just because of his past and who the heck knew what would be triggering memories about what he had endured so far?

That was probably the reason why Dean had stayed put about that. She knew the hunter wasn't dumping a sexy ass. But she also knew that Dean wouldn't do anything to Sam that'd hurt him. She knew that Sam meant a whole lot to the hunter and that everything was different now for him. He _cared_ for Sam. The way he looked at him, looked out for him. Sometimes a little bit too much for her taste … but that was Dean. Definitely the over-protective one in their relationship.

„I'd say … you try and talk to Dean about the other stuff, hu?", she said smiling. „I'm pretty sure he would like to know how you feel about it. - He has to know how you feel about it, if you want to go further. And I promise he won't be mad at you, honey."

Sam just nodded, looking into his lab again, eyes filled with insecurity.

Ellen sighed heavily, well noticing that she probably hadn't been the kind of help he was looking for. „You know what?" She hesitated for a moment. „I think I've another idea …" She hesitated again. „There are these kind of books ….

* * *

Two days later Ellen got back from her check on the roadhouse.

Things between Sam and Dean were still the same. Just that Dean seemed to be a little bit paler as two days before and Sam seemed to get seriously concerned about that fact. Though, the hunter acted as usual.

When she entered the living-room, the both of them sat on the couch and watched some old movie. Sam sat – like always – curled up beside Dean. What would've looked funny somehow if she wouldn't have known the both of them. Sam had gained some weight again, and he looked better in general though.

„Hey Sam!", she called in. „Wanna help me with something?!"

Sam unwrapped himself from the blanket and sat up, giving Dean a look. Dean gave Sam a look back, then peppered a kiss on his lips.

Somehow it felt good that Sam didn't need that much guiding anymore. He made his own decisions now, went to the fridge when he was hungry or thirsty. Hell, when they were kissing it was just like Sam was battling for domination sometimes.

„Back in a minute.", Sam whispered and went outside on the porch where the huntress was waiting for him.

She wore a broad cheeky grin on her face and a small paper-bag in her left hand. Sam looked at her questioning.

„Braught something with for ya'." Her grin went wider and handed him the paper-bag.

Sam eyed it curiously before the lightbulb above his head went on and he knew what had to be inside.

„Thank you Ellen.", he said with a big smile. „And you think that'll answer my questions?"

She shrugged. „Maybe not all of them … but a lot." She chuckled. „Better you hide it somewhere, hu? - It's not common for men to read something like this … so …"

Sam nodded eagerly, and tugged it under his hoody. „Thank you.", he gave back with a big smile. And with this Sam was back inside and dashed upstairs, streight to their room, earning a confused look from Dean.

He got ready to follow him, but Ellen laid a hand on his shoulder and shook her head. „It's okay, Hon. - I just got him something. Guess he wants to be alone with it for a while." She wasn't able to hold back a chuckle.

„What did you ..." The wheels in Dean's mind visible rattling.

„None of your business, Winchester.", she said and sat down beside him, as if she wanted to prevent Dean from following him. „You'll see soon enough I guess."

With this the hunter spent the afternoon in the living-room or kitchen, wondering what in hell could be that distracting for Sam to NOT EVEN get downstairs to check if Dean was still there (because that was what he did, when they weren't in the same room). And to be honest … The fact - somehow - confused him. Scared him … - He was used to Sam being superglued to him no matter what …

* * *

It was three days later, when everything seemed to be back to normal. Sam wasn't hiding anymore somewhere from Dean during the days. Though something was different. - Sam was different. He was still the same but … there was something in his eyes … a spark of something he couldn't name yet.

They had finished their dinner and the five of them were back in the living-room to talk about the things they had researched and found the past week. Some kind of _brainstorming-the-hell-out-of-ya-because-Abaddon's-gonna-kick-our-asses_. But there wasn't a lot they had actually found. Except Dean's dreams there was no way they had a clue where Abaddon was exactly. What they had found was a way to kinda block the dreams. But that also would mean that the demon would know that they knew.

Jim had figured out what the ritual was for. - That it had been a row of spells and rituals that led to the crucified man aka _Sam_. They might have put Sam thru all of them, but in the end it just needed any vessel to contain and hold the knight of hell. Abaddon might not needed Sam for it, but she obviously wanted him.

So Dean wanted to wait. Wanted to try to figure out where this all should lead. And to be honest, it was getting heavier every day to get rid of the agonizing memories of his dreams.

Later they all went back to bed. So did Sam and Dean. With a heavy sigh, the hunter let the door slide into the lock behind them and leaned with his back against it, watching Sam go to the bed and sit down on the edge of it.

„You areso quiet ...", he started, watching the younger man closely as he sat down on the bed. „And the past couple of days … I barely saw you except in the morning and for lunch and dinner and when we went to bed ..."

Sam looked up and seemed so … _unhappy_ somehow. He just nodded and sighed deeply. „I know … I … I just tried to … I was reading about something … but ..."

Dean walked over to him and got on his knees before Sam, inching forward between his legs, until they were just an inch apart. He looked into a pair of big hazel-orbs blinking at him thru long lashes. Then he laid his hands on Sam's thights.

„You know you can tell me everything, don't you?", Dean smiled reassuring. „Whatever it is."

Sam frowned, then sighed again, laying a hand on Dean's cheek. „I thought it would be better when I try to figure it out by myself."

Dean chuckled. „What did you try to figure out by yourself, Sunshine?" He still smiled. „Maybe i could help, hu?"

Sam shook his head with a shy smile on his lips, not able to say it out loud.

„It can't be that bad, is it?" A hint of concern in the hunter's voice. „Is it about … something they did to you?"

Well, not exactly … but close to it. And Sam just didn't know how to say it – how he could possibly explain what bothered him seven days from sunday. The book haven't helped him a lot. It was just … _smut_.

The younger man shrugged.

Then silence. _Long silence._

Dean inched closer until their bodies touched and wrapped his arms around Sam tightly, feeling him tremble. Sam leaned his head into the hunter's shoulder and exhaled audibly.

„Can i see what you've read?", Dean asked after a long while.

Sam tensed in his embrace.

„I promise I won't judge you for anything.", the hunter whispered gently, „Okay?"

„Ellen said … she said men don't read things like that usually.", he answered hesitating.

Dean chuckled and petted his back gently. „We aren't usual. - Common people don't hunt demons."

Sam sniffed and pulled back, just as much to catch the hunter's gaze. „I don't know Dean ..."

The hunter grinned. „Aw, c'mon … let me see what you've read, hu? - Maybe … I can help somehow ... " This seemed like a challenge and he wouldn't be a Winchester if he wouldn't pick it up.

After another long while Sam nodded and leaned back, pulling a book out under the bedding on his side of the bed. Then he held it in his hands for a while, before handing it hesitantly to Dean. The hunter took it eagerly and sat back on his heels. And as he laid his gaze on the cover he frowned. Two well-built men, half naked, sunset in the background and it's title read: „ _The Pirates Companion_ ". Well ... nice, and damn it, he couldn't hold back a grin.

The hunter cleared his throat silently and stole a curious glance at Sam, as he flipped the book open. He started to read right in the middle of it. His lips moved a bit while he did so. Then he frowned, his eyes widened for a moment too. The hunter stole another glance at the man on the bed, clearing his throat again. And Sam watched him carefully. Then Dean closed the book gingerly and laid it aside.

There was complete silence filling the room. Sam didn't dare to breathe. Ellen was right, this was embarrassing. So embarrassing.

„Look … I … This was just because ...", Sam started babbling, „I wasn't sure … and I tried to talk to Ellen, but I think she didn't understand … and then …"

Dean lifted a hand to stop Sam, then looked up at him with a serious expression. „That's just ..." His lips curled down and morphed slowly into something confused.

Eternal seconds of shock, helplessness and insecurity held onto Sam.

„... that's … wow … i mean … i don't know what to say … I ..." Yeah, Dean Winchester was in a lack of words. „You know … you could've come to me … don't you?" He seemed unsure all of a sudden.

Sam nodded. „Ellen said so … but … _I just couldn't_." His voice small and quiet.

Dean got back up on his knees right where he had kneeled before, cupped Sam's face in his hands and kissed him gently. „Sometimes ..." He laid another gentle kiss over Sam's lips. „... you're ..." Another kiss on tender cushions followed. „... just adorable." Then the hunter deepened their contact, cradling Sam's face in his hands, sinking into the warmth and comfort of Sam's mouth.

Sam finally started to kiss him back.

As they parted, Dean grinned at him saucily. „These books are nothing in comparison to reality, Sammy." His voice was low and seducing, dripping of arousal.

Sam smiled shyly and glanced aside, his cheeks flushed violently.

Dean settled his lips on Sam's again. This time he rose slowly, bending him back on the bed as he hovered over him. Then – slowly – he started to urge Sam backwards on the bed. Never letting go of Sam's lips, while he followed him until the man below him was resting on the pillows with his head and shoulders.

„Wanna show me how it can be?", Sam asked hesitantly, as they parted to catch their breaths. He looked up at the hunter with big hazel-orbs.

Dean laid his hand on Sam's hip, rubbing along it with his thump, obviously calculating and thinking for a moment before he answered. „You sure you want this, Sam?", he asked concerned.

He watched the younger man closely. „Because … we don't have to. - I like it as it is right now. You don't need to have the feeling that you have to do something like this for … I ..."

And that was when Sam stilled him with a hand on the hunter's neck, pulling him down into another lingering kiss. Dean felt Sam's slow rise and fall of the chest as they parted again. Warm short puffs of air on his yaw.

The hunter searched Sam's face, but there was nothing to worry about, nothing that could've told him that Sam wasn't sure about what he wanted. „Okay ..." Dean couldn't deny that this wasn't something he didn't like to do … hell, he'd love to do _THAT_ ever since they kissed the first time. He smiled gently. „We'll go slow … and … if you're not okay with what we're doing I want you to tell me and we stop it."

Sam nodded slowly, shifting his hands so, that they slipped under the hems of Dean's shirts, resting on his bare skin. Dean settled into a more comfortable position over Sam, half his weight on the body below him. Then they kissed again. Deep and slow, while Sam tugged the hunter's shirt up, showing him to get rid of it. So he sat up on Sam's lap and got rid of it, never breaking their looks.

Sam took the older man's broad chest in, surveying him with his eyes, lifting his hand like he wanted to touch his skin. But then he pulled back, resting his hand on Dean's thigh. All at once he was insecure again about what he was allowed to do and what not. How he was supposed to act, so he wouldn't do something wrong.

The hunter laid his hand over Sam's and guided it up over the rough denim, to the waistband and over his stomach. Pressing the younger man's hand against his skin. That was when he felt a second trembling hand short above the waistband of his jeans.

Dean smiled and closed his eyes, letting the younger man's airy motions reach right into his soul. He leaned down as he opened his eyes again, guiding Sam's hands around his lower back and settled his swollen lips on his, while the younger man tentatively explored the soft skin under his fingers.

Dean reached up with one of his hands and tangled his fingers in Sam's soft hair, trailing with his lips down his yaw and neck. Nuzzling, licking and sucking the one spot that let the younger man's body shiver beneath him.

Only after Sam's touch lost its insecurity, he started to unbutton his shirt with one hand, followed by tender lips and soft kisses along the exposed skin. Every touch of Dean's gentle kisses let silent gasps and moans fall from the younger man's lips in approval. Completely forgotten about the fact that he soon laid bare-chested below Dean.

Once Dean returned to the man's lips beneath him, he guided him up to get rid of the redundant fabric that still covered his price. The hunter pressed his hips down on his prey's, feeling his arousal against Sam's right where denim met denim.

A low guttural moan left Dean's throat, as Sam started to work on the belt of his jeans, unbuttoning it and drew the zipper down, ever so slowly, releasing the hunter's hardening length. Lost between here and there Dean didn't notice how it came, that he was on his back a moment later and Sam above him.

He let go of the hunter's lips, ghosting along his chin and yaw, down on the side of his neck. Rough stubbles brushing over them until he reached his collar-bone. Dean shuddered beneath him, as he felt him brush over his puffy nipples, further down over his ribcage and stomach towards the hunter's navel. Oh god, this sent thousands of tickles and jolts up and down his spine, making his skin oversensitive to Sam's touch.

Sam guided his tongue around his lover's navel, trailing down over short pubes - never loosing contact, while he tugged down his jeans and underwear in one slow movement. Dean felt the soft warm puffs of Sam's exhales on his length and tight.

The hunter led out a low moan, as Sam's wet lips ghosted over his arousal's head gingerly, before he felt the warmth of his mouth closing around him.

A breathed _ohgod_ wrenched from the hunter's vocal cords when Sam nursed around its head and his lips started to move downwards in a gentle grip, his hands caressing Dean's inner thighs and nads in slow motion.

Dean had never thought that fellatio could be that _sensual_ and _slow_ … and just amazing and beautiful and … **mind-blowing**. There was no need, no intent to let the arousal grow until toppling over the edge. _No_. This was way more. And he'll be damned, he didn't even intent to get over with it that easy. It felt so completely different from all the sexual encounters he have had in the past, where he was ridden from the need to utter his internals. _THIS_ with SAM was way more than just sex. _THIS felt like LOVE_.

Sam didn't change his pace, he kept going, literally worshiping him, every now and then nursing his slit and head with the tip of his tongue, until the hunter was a writhing, moaning and gasping mess below him. And hell, this was fun.

It was then, when Sam felt the hunter's back arch from the bed, when he increased his suction and pace into a faster rhythm, drinking him down to the root and releasing him again. So he gave into the hunter's need and felt Dean fall apart beneath him just moments later, with a nearly sobbed „ _Sammy_ " dying on his lips.

This was what heaven had to be like. An endless orgasm with the person you loved.

Sam drank him, guiding him thru the violent aftershocks of the hunter's hight, until the panting below him subsided and Sam felt a gentle hand on his cheeks that rubbed with its thump over his forehead.

Dean guided him back up and Sam laid down beside him, one hand on the hunter's sweaty chest, the other one on his stomach, drawing airy circles around his navel. The hunter turned to the side, cupping the younger man's face with a dreamy smile on his lips and sealed his lips over Sam's. Tasting himself on Sam's lips and in Sam's mouth. He didn't need to say that this had been definitely the _most perfect_ , **mindblowing** , _extraordinaire_ fellatio he have ever had.

Sam would know it. Just the way he kissed. He'd show him how amazing _this_ felt. So he tugged Sam backwards, until the hunter was settled above the younger man, straddling him with his body. Feather-light touches ghosted over the scars and healed skin on Sam's torso, caressing every single inch of the man beyond him. Making him shudder and tremble from nothing more but lips and fingertips.

The hunter felt Sam's heated skin against his meaty cushions and the way he blew soft little puffs out of his lungs, as Dean traveled down towards the younger man's stomach. Licking a wet trail with his tongue down to his destination.

And Sam whimpered … actually whimpered under his touch. Dean looked up at Sam, so that he was able to be sure that this wasn't a sign for discomfort. But it definitely didn't seem that way. Sam's face was flushed, his eyes closed and there were these tiny goosebumps growing all over his skin.

Dean had to smile, when he reached his belly button, swirling his tongue around and into it, sucking on the tender skin in between navel and waistband. He kept his place right there, trying to break as less contact as possible, while he unbuckled Sam's belt with shaky hands. He removed the younger male's jeans, stripping them all the way down. So he did with Sam's black boxer briefs. And _holy hell_. Sam was one gorgeous man. Despite the scars and the still visible lack of weight – there was nothing more handsome than a Sam in your bed – Dean was sure.

The hunter hovered back over his prey, nuzzling around the navel and down the trail of dark pubes showing his way to the promised land. Not just the small happy noises the younger man made – even his scent – was drving the hunter crazy. Eager to show him that there was more about it than just the act. When you shared this with the right person it felt like the whole world exploded inside you. Like everything around you faded into nothingness.

Sam tensed for a moment, when the hunter's fingers ghosted along the underside of his length towards the tip and back down again, followed by the wet tip of his tongue.

„Shall I stop?", he asked hesitating as he looked up at Sam, catching his gaze. There were so many emotions playing in these darkened mossy-green hazel-orbs to tell what he was feeling right now.

 **YES** Sam's mind yelled at him, because he knew he wasn't supposed to. It had to stop before they went too far and something would happen before he could make it undone. But his heart – his _desire_ – was way stronger. The look in Dean's glistening – love-filled – deep-green eyes won the battle right there.

„ **No** ...", Sam answered with a small reassuring smile. „It feels … _good_."

Dean smiled back at him before he sank down between the younger man's thighs, closing his wetted full cushions around him, as his tongue started its performance.

Sam gasped and arched his hips up in surprise of the feeling to be Dean close like this. It was the first time for him. The first time someone let him have this, let him feel the way he felt right now. And _holy mother of all_ , this was way more as he had ever expected it would feel like.

The warmth that was sneaking into his body, the sparkling sensation under his sensitive skin, Dean's gentle grip on his hips to hold him still. THIS was way more than he had ever expected. And he had it with Dean. Just Dean - and no one else.

The hunter guided one of his hands over Sam's stomach, feeling the muscles beyond his palm relax and tighten with every up and down of his lips and the slight fluttering, when he did this thing with his tongue along Sam's slit.

It was then, when Sam's breaths turned into little gasps and pants, when Dean increased his pace, taking his free hand as an support as Sam was climbing higher and higher until he reached his point of no return. It wasn't more than just a targeted movement of the hunter's tongue that sent him right over the edge and the body below the hunter's tensed before he went lax.

Dean Winchester drank him down like the finest glass of bourbon he have ever had.

That was when he heard the pleading whimper from above. _So silent_ , _so desperate_ … If it wouldn't have been for the complete silence and the trembling body beyond him, he wouldn't have noticed. Wouldn't have noticed that Sam's cheeks were wet with silent tears, that he held his eyes screwed shut.

The hunter climbed off of him rapidly and upwards, to settle beside the crying man. And _holy hell_ … these tears werent because of pleasure. Dean's eyes drew tears the moment he saw Sam's face, his orbs. Filled with shame and sorrow and so many bad things Dean didn't want to name. Because it broke his heart to see him cry – _again_ – like this. To see Sam cry because of what should've been the most beautiful thing for him that had ever happened.

Sam rolled to his side, away from Dean, pulling his legs up to his chest, one hand covering his private parts, the other one wrapped around his legs. He was muttering unclear words into the pillow. The only words Dean was able to make out were „ _I'm sorry_ " and „ _won't happen again_ ".

The hunter inched closer, until his chest was flush with Sam's back, kissing his neck and shoulder gently. „Why are you crying, Sunshine?", he finally managed to say something without sounding like a total idiot.

All what came back was „ _I'm sorry, Dean_ ", and that was something he couldn't leave that way. _Not this_. **Not like that**. Dean had figured that this part of their relationship would be one of the hardest to deal with. That it wouldn't be that easy for the both of them. - But he hadn't thought that exactly THIS could get a problem.

„Sam, c'mon, look at me.", Dean whispered gently and turned Sams head around, so that he was able to see at least half of his face. „Look at me and tell me what you're sorry for. - Because I've seen nothing wrong. Nothing." He frowned concerned. „Did I do something wrong? - Did I hurt you somehow?" _or worse_ … Sam haven't wanted to share this with him … That was the moment the hunter's face turned pale.

Sam shook his head with a violent hiccup and swallowed sob. „'m sorry, Dean. - I didn't want to ..."

„You're crying because …", he thought for a moment, trying to figure out what choice of words he should use. „You're crying because you came?" He couldn't wrap his mind about that fact yet – but there seemed to be a possibility for just this.

And Sam nodded, blinking tears away.

„Sam look at me.", this time the hunter sounded way more demanding, with an edge of despite covering his words.

And Sam turned his head, looking into Dean's eyes.

So much shame, and even more sorrow in this big amazing hazel-orbs, it broke the hunter's heart.

The hunter tugged Sam's hand away, that was still covering the matter of fact, laying his over it, barely making contact with the tender skin beneath.

„I _love_ to feel you, Sunshine. - Don't you ever say you're _sorry_ for that. Don't you ever apologise for having a good time. For enjoying what we both want, okay?", he whispered gently. „And I'm not letting you think that it's a bad thing what just happened. _Because it isn't._ \- No matter what those monsters told you. No matter what they've done to you. - This is us and there's nothing wrong about it." He laid a gentle kiss on Sam's lips. „So … if you liked this … I'm gonna do it to you over and over again. Until you understand that there's nothing wrong in feeling the way you feel. And that there's nothing wrong about … what just happened to you."

Sam sniffed, watching the hunter's face closely. "It was beautiful ...", he finally managed to say after a long while, snuggling with his back into Dean. Feeling the hunter's skin brushing over his as he tugged the sheets over the both of them.

* * *

The traits of Dean's nightmares morphed during the nights. They got more specific and clearer. He remembered a lot more about them. Remembered what he was saying, what Sam was pleading him to do. He now just didn't see Sam and Abaddon anymore. Now there were his mum and dad, telling him what to do, what was right and what was wrong. And the time span in the morning afterwards, to get loose from the fine tendrils of his dreams, lasted even longer.

And the worse about all of this was, that Dean started to feel it. Like his dreams were soaking thru his soul and mind.

Since Bobby had found a ritual to let him forget about his nightmares, he just wanted to hold on for another couple of days. He had to, if he wanted to stop Abaddon for good.

* * *

Sam was in the living-room, curled up on the couch, a blanket tugged around his shoulders, sunken into a thick old book, while Dean was sorting out his weapons upstairs. Maybe it was because of the lack of hunting. The lack of feeling the satisfaction of killing evil things. Dean's fingers ran over the silver shining blade in his hands, as a knock on the open door was heard.

He turned around, his eyes reveal a darker world for a split second, before they cleared up and it was just Dean again.

Bobby stood in the threshold, eying Dean closely. His gaze moved towards the blade, so did the younger hunter's. Concern was written all over Bobby's face at the image before him.

„We should do something about this, Son. - We shouldn't wait any longer.", he finally said and Dean tossed the knife back into the duffel with a heavy sigh. „I don't like the way you are lately. - Sam doesn't either."

„ _He_ told you that?" There was something itchy in Dean's voice.

Bobby shook his head and made a step forward. „No, he didn't tell me anything. He's as silent as usual towards me. - But he's starting to read books he honestly shouldn't."

„Well, he's a grown up man. - I guess he can read whatever he wants.", Dean gave back with a chuckle.

„I thought you didn't want him to. - You told me you don't want him to push it." The older hunter made another step forward. „You know what happens when he does." He cleared his throat. „Besides … i'm starting to get the feeling that you don't want to hold the nightmares at bay anymore."

Dean's head snapped up and the hunter eyed his old friend with a glimpse of anger in his darkened emerald-green eyes. „ _Bullshit_ , Bobby. And you know that. - I just don't wanna give up just yet. It's the only way right now I can imagine to get a hold of Abaddon.", he countered. „And YOU know THAT."

„You should think about your decision. The longer you wait the less you'll want to. - And that's exactly what I am afraid of." Bobby eyed him closely. „Besides … we'll have a lot of other chances to get that bitch."

„Wich ones? Can you tell me just one other way to get to her?" Dean straightened his back and stared at Bobby.

„We'll figure it out, Son.", he answered calmly. „Pulling back doesn't mean to lose the battle.", and with this words he turned around on his heels. Before he was out of the room, he turned back once more. „I thought Sam's more important to you than hunting a demon … of course ... i do understand that a Knight of Hell on the Winchester's black-list's going to make a damn good view."

Dean let his head hang, shoulders hunched over. Bobby was right. Sam was more important than anything else int he entire world ... and if it didn't work the way he had imagined, they'd find another way to get rid of Abaddon ...

… _... to be continued_

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 24 ~ Stay **

When Dean came downstairs, Sam had his nose still buried in one of Bobby's books about demonic ancient legends. When the young man had woken beside him in the morning there had been nothing to hold onto him. He was out of bed and in the shower within five minutes after awaking and had went downstairs before Dean had even managed to get up.

And sure as hell, the kid had something going on in his mind. Something about to deal with the damn nightmares for sure. Ever since Dean had told him about his plan to hold on as long as possible without blocking the dreams, so he'd be able to get to Abaddon somehow, Sam's search for a solution about their problem was literally frantic.

Needless to tell Sam to stop it, because they already had found what they were looking for, and that Dean wouldn't use the spell before he haven't got a track on Abaddon. Though Sam was searching for another solution. Though, since the dreams had changed, Dean was now able to control them at some point. But either way he thought he'd put them, they always ended up in Sam's death and Dean's bloody hands.

And last night Abaddon was asking him, if he have had enough, or if he was ready for a deal. Actually the demon-bitch didn't seem to know about them being together, much to the hunter's relieve. And he told her _NO_ and _TO FUCK OFF_. There was no way they'd make a deal like this. Told her, that he'd never give in.

* * *

The hunter sat down beside Sam on the couch, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and tugging him close. Taking a deep breath of Sam's scent, as he leaned close, stealing a glance at the book in the younger man's lap.

"You know I don't want you to do this.", he whispered and kissed Sam's temple gently.

The younger man leaned into him and looked up. His eyes sore from reading the whole morning.

"Maybe I'm gonna remember something ... something that'll help us to destroy it. - I mean ... there has to be something ..." He gave him the ultimate _puppy dog eyes of doom_.

Dean laid his hand on the opened book, catching Sam's gaze and fixed him. "And I said NO. - I don't want you to do this." Suppressing the urge to yell at him, since he had told him not just once to leave these books be. So he kept his voice calm and steady.

There it was ... this stubborn expression on Sam's face that ever so intensely appeared when Dean said _NO_ to him lately.

The hunter chuckled and shook his head, slightly. Then his expression went serious again. "You know what these flashbacks are doing to you, don't you? - Sam ... yesterday .. the day before .. and a week ago ... you scared the crap out of me. - It was like you were gone somewhere I can't reach you." He frowned and eased the book from Sam's hands, shutting it. "I don't wanna loose you. This way or another we'll figure something out ... we ... - Bobby and me we'll perform the spell in a couple of days, and then she won't come to me anymore."

Sam shook his head. " _It_ touched you. - _It_ 'll always come to you.", he muttered.

The hunter frowned confused. "What do you mean?"

"Abaddon touched you, didn't _it_? Your bare skin ... when you met _it_ in the bar. - _It_ touched you." There was something desperately flashing over Sam's face. "That means _it_ 's always gonna reach you in your dreams. Always. You can't run from _it_ , can you?"

Dean huffed and blinked with his eyes, looking down on the book in his hands.

"So I'd say ... you make the deal." So clear, so subjective were his words.

"Are you freakin' kidding me?", Dean blurted out and jumped up from the couch, shooting glances of disbelieve at the younger man. "No way I'm doing it."  
Sam leaned back. "Sure you will. - You will make the deal, because you've had enough already. You will bring me there – wherever it wants me – and then you'll kill it. - I trust you on this. I honestly do." He looked up at the hunter, watching all the emotions between pure white rage and doubt crossing his face. "I want to end this. I wanna live in peace, want to get out of this house and just go wherever you take me."

"Sam.", there was a soft warning in Dean's voice. "There's no way that I'll use you as _bait_." He actually yelled the last word at Sam.

But the younger man kept calm, eying the hunter, letting pass some moments before he talked again. "Yes you will. - You will use me as _bait_. You will use me to get Abaddon. You will use me for it, or I'll go and deliver myself to it. Without you. - Because I see no chance to end this in any another way. It's going to drain you, and I won't let that happen. - I won't watch you while you're going down."

The hunter paced in front of the coffee table back and forth, not looking at Sam. Pure anger radiating from him, making it palpable in the thick, heated air.

" **No** , Sam. - _Never_.", he muttered to himself. "There's no way we're doing that."

Sam just nodded, looking down into his lap and trembling hands. He had wanted to suggest his plan earlier ... but he already felt Dean change. He was changing with every night the dreams went on. And he couldn't do that. He loved Dean too much to see him like that. See him fighting whatever these nightmares were doing to him.

Sam looked up, fixing the hunter's gaze. "Then you'll leave me no other choice.", and with this he stood up and went towards the hall, not looking back.

It was then when Sam went back into their bedroom, his heart hammering in his chest, tears burning in his eyes. He wouldn't leave the hunter to it. He wouldn't risk his live to save his own. _No_. He wouldn't. Though the thought of leaving Dean, being apart from him, hurt deep down, letting his heart shatter into millions of pieces. But he also knew that this was the only way to try and end this.

That was when the door slammed open and a rage-filled hunter stood in the doorway. Snorting like a wild grown animal. Eyes burning with anger and fear and despite. He dashed towards Sam, grasped him by the shoulders from behind and flipped him around so he faced him. A split second later, Dean crushed his lips on Sam's violently, nearly knocking all the air out of the younger man's lungs.

The fierce kiss softened instantly, as Sam's body lost its tension in the hunter's arms and he wrapped his around Dean's middle. He hadn't intended to make him mad, or angry. But he also wanted to get thru with his plan. Wanted Dean to know what he was ready to try.

When they parted they were both panting, trying to get much-needed oxygen into their lungs as possible.

"I want to do this, Dean. - I do.", Sam breathed, holding the hunter's gaze. "I want us to be free. I want to go outside whenever I want without being afraid of getting taken or killed." ... because he wasn't ready to die anymore. Not as he was in the beginning. Now he wanted to fight, wanted to survive and stay with Dean as long as he was allowed to. Even when it meant to say or do things he wasn't meant to.

Dean tightened his hold on Sam, drawing him closer like he wanted to become one with him. "It's too dangerous ... if something goes south ... I could lose you. - I could lose you for good."

The younger man shook his head. "You won't. - I promise you won't lose me, okay?" He smiled like he knew exactly what would happen when they would do this – but to be honest: he couldn't. No one could.

* * *

**(And if they would know what end this was going to take, no one of them would've dared to** **try and fuck around with a knight of hell ...)**

* * *

Dean cradled Sam's face in his hands and laid his lips over the younger man's tender cushions. "I love you, Sunshine.", he whispered as they parted, his hands ghosting down over his neck, shoulders and bicep, until they settled on Sam's hips. Then he wrapped his arms around Sam's middle, one palm resting on his lower back.

"You can't ask me to get you in danger. - You can't.", Dean whispered, his voice trembling. "Not now. Not ever, _Sam_."

The younger man closed his eyes and melted into Dean's gentle embrace. "You'll watch out for me.", he gave back, because he knew. "And I'll watch out for you.", he added softly. "We'll have each others backs out there. - You with your weapons and I with mine. - And that's how we'll get it down." Sam smiled reassuring into the hunter's shoulder. "I feel you _changing_ , Dean ... You're changing and I don't like it. - I'm scared you become one of them ..."

Then there was silence and so many emotions lingering in the air.

Dean didn't want him to be scared. Not of him. Not ever. "Could we ... discuss this tomorrow?", he asked after a long while.

Sam nodded and a long-drawn warm breath ghosted over the hunter's neck, causing goosebumps all over his body. "Sure we can."

"Okay. - Because I don't want our evening to end up in a mess." He smiled and leaned back so he was able to face Sam. "I've planned something for the both of us." He gave him his most famous Winchester-smile ever.

The younger man beamed at him with bright eyes, dimples appearing all over his face in anticipation. "What?"

Dean chuckled and sniffed. "We'll have the house all on our own. - Jim's going back to his church this afternoon. Caleb's still on the hunt and Ellen and Bobby will sleep at the Roadhouse to get some inventory done or something. - So ... we've probably more than twenty-four hours on our own."

Sam's mind started to work frantically. "That doesn't mention what you've planned ...", he mentioned leery, searching the hunter's face closely.

Dean's smile morphed into a cocky grin. "Because it's a surprise, Sunshine."

He smiled back at the hunter shyly. "Doesn't mean I'll change my mind about the Abaddon-Thing."

"We're so not gonna start this discussion all over again, Sammy.", he replied with a husky touch in his voice, drawing Sam's hips closer against his. "Not now.", he breathed against Sam's tender skin, kissing this one spot that made him shiver to the bone.

"That's not fair ..." The younger man gasped gripping Dean's hips tightly as he whined and closed his eyes.

Dean chuckled. "Everything's fair to get you to shut up about THAT."

* * *

Four hours later they had Bobby's Salvage for themselves. They had said their goodbyes and their cars had taken off a couple of minutes ago, while Dean and Sam still stood on the porch. Dean had wrapped one of his arms around the taller man's small back and had tugged him close, his hand resting on Sam's hip. He was still able to feel his hipbone too heavily thru the fabric of shirts and jeans. Reminding him of what the younger man had endured during his life until now. And it still stressed Dean to know about it. Knew that it weight upon Sam's soul heavily. Not alone his body was a map of torture and harm. Sometimes he was able to see it written all over Sam's face and in his eyes. Even when he tried to hide, when he drifted off into the darker moments of his young life.

The hunter reminded himself that it'd take time and that it'd end as soon as the demons would let go of him. That this all had a chance to end, when Abaddon was dead.

"Can we stay outside for a while?", Sam asked silently and looked up at the hunter, who stood close beside him.

Torn from his thoughts, Dean looked down and settled beside the younger man on the step, laying a hand on his knee. "Sure we can. - Whatever you wanna do, Sunshine.", he answered softly, with a gentle smile.

So they stayed on the porch for another while. Just looking over the stacked cars and the field, into the gleaming winter-sunset. It was so calm and silent. Nothing but the ravens clamors were heard.

* * *

When they started to feel the bitter cold crawl under the fabric of their clothes, when their cheeks were red and noses cold, they decided to go back inside. While Dean prepared two mugs with irish coffee, Sam settled down on the couch, inserting one of the many movies he haven't seen yet.

As Dean went into the living-room, he put both mugs on the table before them and wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulder, who immediately curled up beside him and leaned into the body next to him.

"Wanna help me? - I thought about pasta with Bolognese, hu?", the hunter asked, after the sun had finally disappeared behind the lowest car-wreck visible from the window behind the couch.

Sam nodded and yawned, pulling both hands closer against his chest, in whose fists he clenched Dean's shirt.

The movie hadn't even finished when the two men went into the kitchen. Sam started to chop carrots, celeriac and other vegetables he thought might fit into a tomato sauce, while the hunter roasted onions and ground meat in a big jar. Some time later they changed placed and Dean continued to chop the vegetables in a way faster pace and Sam stirred in the jar pensively.

Just when the hunter was done with chopping, he got behind Sam and wrapped his arms around the younger man's middle, blowing a gently kiss on his neck, what made him chuckle shyly. Sam leaned into the hunter's body, feeling over-arm puffs of air against his neck, while he took care of the ground meat.

Abaddon, the nightmares, the golden cage in wich they lived right now ... everything forgotten. Right now there were just the two of them and Bobby's house and the jar. The yard and a whole night and half a day all on their own for what seemed like eternity.

Dean's hands shifted to Sam's sides, resting there for a moment, before he gripped them a little bit tighter, pressing with his lower body against Sam's. Dean would've done nothing rather than getting rid of their clothes right in front of the stove, feeling the younger man's skin flush against his own. Letting his hands roam all over him.

Sam moaned silently, wich sounded more like a plea than anything else. He loved to be close to the hunter, who barely let his hands from him. Dean was always touching him, and if it was just his knee rubbing on Sam's, or a hand resting somewhere on the younger male's body. But the most he liked it, when they were all naked beneath the covers and blankets, curled into each other. In Dean's protectively embrace. There was nothing saver than this. Nothing more comfortable as the closeness to him.

That was why he wouldn't let anything happen to the hunter because of him.

* * *

They had an early dinner tonight. Both of them just communicating thru her looks and glances and simple gestures. There was no need to talk that much. Because both of them knew what the other one was thinking by just looking at him.

Damn, and Dean Winchester felt like the luckiest man alive right now. Sometimes he was still thinking about the day he and his friends had taken Sam from the crucifix. Still thinking about the fact, that he had thought that Sam was dangerous as soon as he had seen his black eyes. And – holy shit – who would've thought, that he'd fall for him. Or that Sam would fall for the hunter?

Dean's grin widened about these thoughts.

When they were done and had cleaned the dishes and stored the rest of their pasta in the refrigerator, they sat at the table. Each one a bottle of beer in front of him, resting their filled stomaches.

"I'd like to take a bath ...", Sam said with an inviting look, "and I'd like to have the bath with _you_ ..."

Dean looked up from the beer and smiled back saucily. He'd do everything for a bath with Sam. But not tonight. He had to prepare some things to get ready for the surprise he had for him. It wasn't something big. - And to be honest: It wasn't that special either. "You go and have your bath. - I'll wait for you upstairs."

The hunter watched Sam closely, tilting his head slightly to the side, while he left the kitchen and turned towards the stairs. Yes, he was a damn lucky guy, he thought while his gaze flew over Sam's back and long legs. This man was _his_. - Only _his_. And there'd be no way he'd risk his life and take him as bait.

* * *

_in a warehouse, somewhere in the USA ..._

Abaddon licked the red slick fluid from the atame and smacked her tongue, licking over her soft blood-red lips. Her eyes were black and dangerously bright in anticipation. She knew – sooner or later – the hunter would give in. No one – not even a Winchester ~ was able to hold onto someone he barely knew, when your dreams were haunted and your mind tortured. She felt the hunter's defence grumble slowly ...

Abaddon was sure: _He'd give in ... He'd give in soon._ One night ... or two ... it didn't matter anymore. The hunter was hers and so would be the soultaker ...

She knew: Either he'd bring the soultaker to her, or he'd kill him. That way or another ... she'd get at least some kind of revenge ... and the more time she spent to give the Winchester hell, the more interesting the hunter got.

_... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 25 ~ Loosing You **

Sam had spent about an hour in the bathtub. Soaking until the water - with a hint of irish moss - went cold. He had taken his most favorite tee and sweat-pants with him. At least he had thought so … because actually they were nowhere to find all of a sudden. Though he had imagined that he had laid them into the sink, but instead there was a black bathrobe. Wich he wasn't able to recon to have taken.

He decided that it was pretty useless to break his head about something like this, so he slipped into it and tied the belt around his waist, making his way towards their bedroom.

He was taken by surprise as he pushed the door handle down and collided with the wooden door at his attempt to get into the room, wich had never been on lockdown before.

„Dean?", he asked hesitating, not sure what reasons the hunter could've had to lock the room.

No answer.

The young man shifted his weight from one foot to another while over thinking, biting his lower lip pensively.

„Five more minutes, Sunshine!", came finally the hunter's muffled respond, followed by a frustrated grunt and a thump. A silent curse followed right afterwards.

„Okay ..." Sam laid his hand flat on the wooden surface. „I'll …. wait here ..." The scar on his palm strained a little under the movement. It was still sensitive and itchy, but even less after Dean had removed the stitches after lunch.

Five endless long minutes later, Sam heard the door being unlocked from the other side, then hurried shuffling and the bed squeaking. The young man bit the insides of his lower lip, as he laid his hand on the handle again, pushing it down and stopped before it could snap open.

„Come in!", Dean called out form the inside, sounding nervous and somehow hesitating.

So Sam pushed the door open and couldn't believe what he saw there. - Candles over candles. Every single surface in the room was occupied by them. Even big once were placed on the floor. White petals all around their bed and the floor and Dean just in the middle of it, in a white bathrobe, lying in the middle of black silken sheets that were shining in different shades of black and orange and yellow in the faint light of fire. Propped up on one of his elbows, biting his lower lip, was Dean, with a cocked eyebrow and a genuine smile on his lips.

The hunter's exposed skin shone like golden velvet in the candles lights, his green eyes gleaming at Sam like liquid crystals in the dark.

Sam kept staring at Dean in wonder, his mouth agape, frozen in the threshold, curling his toes.

A flicker of doubt rushed over the hunter's face, when the younger man wouldn't move, nor say a single word, just continued to stare at him.

„Are you gonna keep staring?" Dean smiled softly. „Or are you comin'?"

Sam's features relaxed and his lips curled up into a smile, followed by a slight nod. He let the door slide into the lock behind him and went to the bed, walking over the velvet petals beneath him. He ever so slowly crawled on the bed and over the hunter, who instantly sank back on his back, letting Sam hover over him. The slight scent of irish moss mixed with the unique smell of what was just Sam made the older male's heart skip a beat and a second one.

He laid his tender cushions on Dean's soft ones, kissing him gently. „It's beautiful.", he whispered against the hunter's lips with low voice.

Dean smiled, wrapping his strong arms around the other man's middle, pulling him down onto him, while they penetrated each others mouths with their tongues until their bodies started to move against each other. Just separated by silken fabric.

The hunter flipped them both over, so that he was in charge, tangling his fingers in Sam's soft hair and pulling it back gently. A silent moan fell from Sam's lips as the hunter caressed the younger man's yaw and throat, sucking on his adams apple. He pressed his hardening manhood against Sam's, slipping with one of his legs between the younger man's.

Slowly he started to untie the knot of Sam's bathrobe, tugging the thin fabric apart to feel the warmth of the younger man's skin under his palm. Then he undid his, slipping out of the soft gown that had covered his oiled body until moments ago.

Dean reached towards the nightstand, tipping his fingers into a tiny bowl with warm oily fluid inside. Then he tracked a trail down Sam's chest and solar plexus, finding it's destination right above his navel. He bowed down until there was just an inch left before he'd touched the younger man's skin and blew his warm exhale over it.

Thousands – no – hundred-thousands – of jolts were thrilling Sam's sensitive skin right then. There was no expression for what it felt like. And Dean did it again, causing little gasps and soft noises from the man beneath him.

Sam liked to close his eyes when they were intimate like this. It didn't seem like he wouldn't enjoy it – HELL he did definitely enjoy every single thing the both were doing together. It looked more like a part of Sam was hiding deep inside the body that lay underneath the hunter's. Like a part of the younger man was afraid of showing that he savored Dean's hands and mouth.

But that wasn't what he wanted tonight. Dean wanted to look him in the eyes. See what Sam was seeing. And he didn't want him to hide – because there was nothing to hide anyway. Sam was one of the most gorgeous looking men to him he had ever known. Besides: this was Sam. Just Sam. Pure Sam, without doubt and despite. Without all the bad things that once had happened.

Sam felt Dean's fingers trace softly around his left dug, before something wet flicked over it, letting him shudder, and the hunter's warm mouth sealed over it. He wanted to see, what felt like heaven, but didn't dare. Sam knew that he was a monster, and the fact that his eyes were pitch-black at the moment didn't do him any favors. So he kept his eyes shut, letting Dean take the lead on this.

This was their night, their first time together and he didn't want to ruin it for Dean, nor for himself.

Dean reached for the small bowl on the nightstand again, never letting go of Sam's nipple. As he let go of it, to sit up, he blew warm air over it, making Sam shiver at the sensation.

The hunter felt Sam's strained erection beneath him, as he sat on his lap, the bowl in his hand. „Sammy.", he said huskily. „Come on and open your eyes for me."

The younger man immediately tensed, blowing out a shuddering breath. „No … _please_ … - it's ..."

„I wanna see your eyes, Sunshine. - Open up for me.", he repeated, resting a hand on Sam's solar plexus.

A moment later his eyes fluttered open – black as the darkest new moon's night. But this was Sam. Just Sam and no one else. This was what Dean had hoped to see. See that Sam's emotions were out of control when they were intimate like this. Seeing that Sam would share all of this with him – just him and no one else.

He saw Dean smiling at him, with a small bowl in his hand. „You're handsome … just in the way you are.", the hunter said, trickling some of the warm oil from the bowl over Sam's torso, making him moan at the warm sensation.

„I want you to see me. - I wanna see YOU.", Dean continued while he poured the bowl on Sam's stomach. Then he shifted his free hand over the small pool of warm oil and started to massage it into the younger man's skin, making him gleam in the warm light of the candles.

Sam arched against Dean, who was straddling him down with his weight, feeling the younger man's hard length jerk and twitch under him.

The hunter smiled and laid the bowl aside, bowing forward to catch Sam's lips with his. He laid a hand on Dean's cheek, holding him right where he was, to deepen the kiss when their tongues met. That was when the hunter guided his hand down, over Sam's navel and even further, finding the younger man's erected member and cupping his nads gently, letting his index finger run over his perineum. What caused Sam to moan and gasp against the hunter's lips. Making soft little noises of arousal, as his hands clutched at Dean's velvet-soft oiled skin.

„Turn over.", Dean whispered into Sam's ear and guided him to get on his stomach.

He took another small bowl with warm oil and purred it in between Sam's shoulder blades, watching as it ran down the groove of Sam's spine, to get captured on his lower back, where Dean was kneeling over him. Then he started to massage and rub Sam's muscular back gingerly, watching muscles clench and release beneath the skin.

The hunter's hands traveled down over scarred skin like silken sheets, over his lower back and finally reaching Sam's tight globes of glory. A low aroused moan left Sam from the depths of his throat, as Dean trailed one of his fingers thru Sam's groove of globes. So every slowly, until Sam gasped in surprise as the hunter found his puckered port, gently guiding his finger tip around it.

He kissed Sam's shoulders and back, as the he arched up beneath him, writhing under the hunter's teasing touches.

It was then, when Dean entered him with the tip of his index finger, that Sam's breath caught in his throat and he clenched around the hunter, feeling a gentle hand massaging his lower back. This wasn't something they had done before and the hunter had refused to even try to get close to this – Sam's very private – body part. He wanted to make it gentle and slow for Sam's first time. He wanted to show him, that there was another way than just taking what he wanted. Something he'd never do to Sam.

And of course, no matter how hard it'd be to stop, he would. Right there without hesitation. Because this was Sam. Sam who was supposed to be threaten with respect and love and tenderness like everyone else.

The hunter carried on, slow and gentle, pushing his oiled finger deeper into him, feeling the warmth surrounding his finger. Sam groaned and pushed up on his knees, making all these silent happy noises while Dean moved inside him, trying to find the tender bundle of nerves.

He added a second finger after a long teasing while and a third one. His own erection already throbbing and screaming for attention. Though he took his time with Sam. This wasn't something to rush. This was love … and in Dean Winchester's world, love was like a nice wrapped up present for birthday. And tonight was going to be his birthday.

None of them knew how long they stayed like this. It could've been minutes or even hours. And none of them cared just a little.

Dean pulled away and out of Sam, putting a trail of kisses up Sam's spine to his neck, as he settled beside him, caressing the tender skin on Sam's flank with his hand. That was, when Dean guided him with a gentle tug on his side, so that the younger man's back was flush against Dean's front. Sam felt the hunter's hard manhood rubbing against the groove of his globes. Their bodies all silky from the almond-oil.

Sam tilted his head back, catching Dean's swollen lips, licking into his mouth, as he grabbed behind him, holding the hunter's hips, while he rubbed against him.

Breathed moans and gasps fell from the hunter's lips into their kiss, as he laid his hand on Sam's throat with gentle force, guiding it up towards his cheek.

„Open your eyes, Sunshine.", he whispered breathlessly.

And Sam obeyed. He opened his eyes, catching the hunter's gaze. There was no darkness anymore. It were Sam's bright, longing hazel-orbs looking at him. Sparkling in a thousands of shades in the candles light. Dean stilled the younger man's movements, as he laid his hand on Sam's hip, brushing over his thigh and guiding his leg forward a little bit.

Then he kissed his neck and shoulder, while he lined himself up against Sam's entrance, feeling his arousal's head dripping with precome and slick with oil, as he spread the younger man's globes to have better access.

Sam held completely still, his breath increasing, as he felt Dean behind him. A slight feeling of panic rose in his chest. Memories of how this could probably hurt flaring up inside of him, pushing a cruel shiver thru his body.

Dean shoved his free hand under Sam's head, tugging his arm across Sam's chest, holding him close. „We can wait, Sammy. - It's okay.", he whispered ever so gently.

He looked back over his shoulder, eying Dean hesitantly. „Is it going to hurt a lot?" His voice so silent and tiny, so afraid and filled with fear. Though his words didn't leave any doubt that it had to hurt. Like he knew it would, no matter what Dean did.

Dean nuzzled along Sam's neck. „If i'm hurtin' you we'll stop, okay?"

Sam nodded. Just nodded. Another shiver pushed his way thru him.

„I'm gonna show you ...", the hunter whispered and placed a soft kiss behind Sam's ear, „... there's nothing you've to be afraid of." Another kiss.

Sam nodded again, relaxing a bit as Dean tracked his flat palm over his erected dug, sending jolts of pleasure thru the younger man's form.

Ever so gentle Dean eased into him, preaching him so slowly and stopped again as he felt Sam tense and the ring of muscles clenched around his arousal. Not before Sam relaxed again, the hunter kept going until he was buried in his love's tight and warm embrace of flesh.

Sam let out a low moan as he felt the hunter resting inside him, feeling nothing but bliss and pleasure. The pain never came. Not even a bit.

The younger man pushed back against Dean, feeling his hardening length slide inside even deeper and lured a guttural moan from the hunter's throat. He laid his hand on Sam's stomach, holding him in place while he started to move inside him. Slow and gentle, back and forth. With every thrust he stroke the most sensitive spot deep inside Sam's insides, causing him to shudder and tremble and making those low happy sounds.

Sam gripped for Dean's hand – wich was resting on his stomach, to hold him where he was – and guided it up towards his ribcage, holding onto it, while he pressed it against his heart. Moving in perfectly sync with Dean's gentle thrusts, he tilted his head back and to the side, so that they were able to kiss.

The hunter felt Sam's breathing increase, so did his heartbeat. Dean tugged his upper body even closer, holding onto him, blowing out shuddering breaths as he tried to keep himself under control. _He was so close, so damn close_. Feeling the comfortable warmth surrounding his manhood and the love of his life in his arms. This was heaven, _damn it_. There was nothing more incredible as the knowledge that Sam was all his.

Sam whimpered. Actually whimpered into the kiss, as he increased his pace and the younger man drew back and forth with more force than before. The hunter let him set their pace and adjusted to Sam, whose head was resting between the pillow and Dean's head, drawn back into the shoulder of the man behind him.

„You're just ...", Dean whispered, broken by a low moan, „... so damn beautiful."

The hunter's hand slid down slowly, over Sam's ribcage and stomach, over his navel, crossing his public hair towards his hard length. He ever so gently wrapped his fingers around it in a careful grasp and started to drag up and down in just the same rhythm with their thrusts.

A moan – louder and deeper than ever before – tore from Sam's throat, showing his approval to Dean's performance. That was when the younger man's pace increased even further.

Muscles clenched and relaxed around the hunter's hard length with every dragging-down of his hand. Soon they were a writhing and moaning mess, surrounded by black silken sheets, white petals and firy candles.

Sam toppled over the edge with a strangled cry and Dean followed just seconds after him. Slowing down their pace, until the both of them stilled completely. Bodies slick with oil and sweat, remaining in the same position as it had started.

The hunter felt his softening manhood being released of his firy prison of pleasure, and he tugged Sam closer, guiding his jaw up, so he was able to kiss his wet, rose cushions.

* * *

_He pinned him down beneath him, catched struggling arms and held them down forcefully. There was no way he'd come away, no way he'd let the man go. No matter how heart-shattering the man pleaded for his release … It felt so damn good. So damn good as he wrapped his fingers around the man's throat, tightening his grip. His black eyes shining with unshed tears up at the hunter, as the choking prey beneath whimpered and slapped weakly at his hands, trying to fight him off._

„Please ... _", it whimpered. „_ That's not you … please let me go … please ... _" And in the very same moment the blackness faded from his prey's eyes, turning back into their natural green hazel-orbs._

_His prey dug with its fingernails into the skin of his lower arm and tore his skin off, as it was fighting for dear life._

_The struggling beneath him stilled finally, his prey got weaker with every attempt to free itself from the hunter's strangling grip._

_It was then, when the man's arms sank down on the soft and silken surface beside them, and the hunter blinked at the man below him. Seeing a single tear leaving the man's eyes, as he choked his last words out in a silent whisper. „I love you."_

_... SAM ..._

Dean's heart skipped a beat … and another one …

But this time he didn't wake up. He didn't snapped out of what had to be a dream … of what had its claws dug into his chest, squeezing his heart violently at the realization ...

_…... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 26 ~ What Breaks You **

Dean Winchester's colored face went pale. His raw hands withdrew from the younger man's throat beneath him.

The blissful feeling of bringing down a monster faded with every second he let pass, realizing that Sam had been the monster he was hunting in his dreams. Of course, in his dreams he knew what and who he was hunting. He had known that it was Sam for whom he was coming for.

_But now – here …_

„ _Sammy_.", he choked out, his eyes wide in horror, unable to move.

The hunter forced himself to shove the memories of his dream aside. Forced himself to react, to do something. Precious seconds or even minutes were passing right now. _He didn't, did he?_

Like someone had skipped a switch, he frantically started to search Sam's neck for a pulse, his fingers trembling. Dark bruises were already appearing where he had his deadly hold on the younger man.

„ _Sam_.", he whispered, watching the younger man's lips turning blue.

There was a weak thump against his index finger. He bowed down, forcing himself to hold his breath, as he lingered with his ear over Sam's mouth and nose.

Dean didn't waste any more time. He jumped off of Sam and the bed, gripping him under the shoulders and dragged him from the soft surface, laying his body out on the wooden floor. A split moment later he was over him again, tilting the younger man's head back, holding Sam's nose and spreading his mouth open with one hand on his chin. Then he was on him, taking a deep breath and sealing his lips wide over Sam's, forcing air into his lungs.

Over and over again, Dean fought for him, daring him to come back from the darkness that meant definite death. What had he thought how this would end? What had he thought not to do the damn spell earlier? He should've known – by the means of his feelings – that he should've stopped this earlier. Should've stopped the inner fight about how he was feeling for Sam.

Ignoring the damn voices deep down in his mind that were yelling that Sam was a monster and that he had to die hadn't been a solution. Might have never been part of Abaddon's plan at all.

He shouldn't have let it come that far. One more mistake among a lot ever since it came to Sam.

 _Why hadn't Sam stopped him?_ He could've ended this by himself. Could've killed Dean in an instant – but he hadn't. He would've never done that and the hunter knew it. Even when his life depended on it – Sam would've never harmed him or anyone else, what made Dean feel even more miserable.

„ _C'mon, Sammy._ ", he chanted between every inhale he took to force another load of oxygen into the younger man's lungs. „ _C'mon … don't leave me hangin' …._ "

After something that seemed like eternity, Sam gasped for air, his back arching up slightly as he managed to take a wheezing inhale thru his bruised throat. Another gasp followed and a couple of short pained inhales. His orbs were dazed and his lips still slightly blue, when he managed to lift his hand, just to let it drop back down on his stomach.

Sam felt someone touching his cheeks and stroking his hair ever so gently. A warm body close to him and a voice … talking. Saying his name over and over again. His head was still too fuzy to understand. Everything was in a haze of mist. The one thing he knew was, that Dean had been over him suddenly, that the hunter's hands were closing around his throat, cutting off his breath. And the fatal predator-like expression on Dean's face. The ultimative killer-look and the pure hate in his green eyes.

This hadn't been Dean. _Not the Dean he knew …_

Then darkness dragged him down into unconsciousness.

* * *

Dean watched Sam fading away into unconsciousness. He kneeled there for another while, just staring in disbelieve at the younger man. _Damn it_ … why didn't he just had killed the hunter? Dean could've killed him, suffocated him, and Sam would've just let it happen. - _Just like that_...

The hunter fumbled for Sam's pulse again. It still felt weak, but his breathing seemed to be alright – except the wheezing sound he made, wich probably came from Sam's abused throat. For a moment he just wanted to run away as far as he could. Just so he wouldn't be able to hurt Sam AGAIN.

Ever so gently he guided his arms under Sam's knees and shoulders, picking him up with a grunt and rose to his feet, laying him on the bed. He ever so gingerly pulled the bedding and a blanket over Sam's limp body, kneeling beside him on the floor.

Tears stung in his eyes like burning fire, as he laid his hand on Sam's yaw, taking him in closely. The hunter's gaze wandered down Sam's neck and remained on the bruised patterns, that pretty much looked like Dean's handprints. He couldn't hold his tears back any longer, so he let them fall, resting his hand on Sam's bare chest, laying his head above his heart to listen to the soothing thump of the younger man's heart. _Feeling him alive under him._

Bobby had been right after all. He had sensed that Dean's plan would go south, since they didn't know what Abaddon's intentions were, what these nightmares meant. He should've made the ritual the day they had found it, to block these nightmares from his memories. And now? Now it was too late. The harm was done.

But Dean knew how to prevent them from happening again. He'd do the ritual tonight. Screw Abaddon. Screw everything that had to do with her. They'd find another way out of this.

* * *

He crawled his way out of the darkness. So slow and painful was his way towards the light before him.

It was then, when his eyes fluttered open, that he felt the silken touch of the covers on whom they had spent the last night on. The second thing he felt was his hurting throat and adams' apple. The feeling of swollen flesh and bruised skin, where the marks of his collar had remained before.

He closed his eyes again – just for a moment – to clear his blurry vision. Sam remembered what had happened. Everything of it. Specially as he tried to fight of Dean without hurting him. He could've ripped the hunter's soul from his body in an instant. But he hadn't. He knew this hadn't been his hunter. That _Dean_ would've not knowingly hurt him.

Sam's hand found its way towards his neck, fingertips brushing over purple and deep-blue marks. He swallowed hard and painfully before he rose his head to have a look at his surroundings. Everything had remained the same, just that Dean wasn't there with him. _He was gone …_

„Dean?", he croaked out silently and frowned at the rawness of his own voice.

He got up on his elbows, glaring at the door. It was so _silent_ – it sounded … _abandoned_. Sam sniffed and swung his legs out of the bed, instantly regretting his fast motion. The world around him started to spin dangerously fast, letting him topple forward from the edge of the bed and collide unprotected with the wooden floor in under of him.

Sam hissed as he touched his forehead, to stop the mary-go-round in his head, failing miserable at his attempt to get back up on his feet. He took a couple of deep inhales, before he tried again, bracing himself up on the soft mattress.

All he was able to think about was _Dean_. _Dean._ And letting him know – telling him – that it was okay. That he knew that it hadn't been him – at least not really. He had to make him clear that he wasn't pushing him away, or would try to get away from him. At least not today or tomorrow. Because Sam knew this wouldn't end, and some day one of them both would be dead. And he didn't want the hunter to die …

First of all he had to find HIM … So he went to the small closet on the opposite wall of the bed and picked – swaying – a fresh set of clothes, including one of Dean's scarfs. It took him longer as he thought to get dressed. At last he wrapped the thick plaid scarf around his neck and tugged it's ends into his hoody.

Sam knew that the bruises were there … he didn't even need to get into the bathroom and have a look at them. He didn't need to show them to everyone. So yeah, he'd hide them until they were gone and just the scared skin of the collar he once wore would remain.

He made a quick visit in the bathroom to do his business and brush his teeth, before he went downstairs. His knees still wobbly and weak under him, he braces himself up on the banister to not stumble down the stairs.

As he had reached the end of the stairs, he stopped in his tracks, taking a deep breath to clear his head. Sadly he realized that he was breathing louder as necessary, but he knew the wheezing sound would fade as soon as the swelling would disappear.

That was when he heard Dean's muffled and strained voice from the kitchen. He was talking to someone …

„I'll get everything ready for tonight.", he heard the hunter say, as he leaned against the wall beside the threshold on the other side of the kitchen. „He's still asleep ..." A short pause. „ _No_." Another pause, this time a bit longer. „Bobby, _NO_. - I'll wait until you both get back here." The hunter sighed. „Damn it, **no**. I've nearly killed him, i won't go up there again."

Then there was a pretty long pause.

„He's going to be scared. - I can't." The hunter's voice broke a couple of times while he spoke, mixed with swallowed sobs and tears. „Well, I'd freak out if the guy I'm with tries to choke me with his bare hands. - You know him. He's going to hide and I'm not gonna blame him."

Sam wanted to say something. - _Anything_. But he couldn't. He just stood there and looked to the ground. He heard the hunter say goodbye to his old friend and muffled sobs and hiccups. Then Sam looked to the ground. - With one strike he felt guilty to the bone, for making Dean feel bad like this. _This wasn't how it was supposed to be …_

Sam pushed away form the wall and rounded the corner, finding Dean, hunched over at the table, forearms resting crossed on the table and his face buried in them. The younger man eyed him cautiously for a moment before he spoke.

„It's not your fault, you know?", he said quietly, leaning against the door frame, his head resting against the old wood. Sam's voice was rough and raw as he had screamed the living hell out of him.

The hunter's head shot up and red-rimmed eyes staring at him sadly. Taking in Sam's appearance closely. He was a bit pale and looked tired.

Dean rubbed with his palm over his face and sniffed. „You should be in bed … and resting." His gaze fell on the scarf knowing what he was hiding beneath.

Sam looked to the ground, his hazy eyes dark. „You weren't there ..." Then he looked up. „I was looking for you ..."

Well that surprised the hunter amazingly. Actually he had thought the younger man would rather flee from him than come looking. Shame and sorrow flashed over Dean's face and he drew out a long shuddering exhale. „Thought it's better to stay away from you until tonight ..."

Sam pushed away from the door frame and walked into the kitchen. His knees still shaky and kind of week when he left the brace of the old wood from his side. He never let his gaze from the hunter while he made his way to the table. Neither did Dean look away from him.

„You honestly shouldn't be on your feet by now. - Go lay down again." The hunter sounded broken and self-disgusted while he spoke. Though it didn't change Sam's attentions to be with him.

„Not unless you come with me.", Sam grabbed the edge of the table to balance himself out. It felt like either the kitchen or himself started to spin again, as his knees going all soft.

Dean stared at him in disbelieve. How could he possibly still trust him? „I'm dangerous, Sam. - I literally killed you.", his voice was sharp around the edges.

Sam blew out a short breath, closing his eyes for a moment, to focus back on Dean instead of the dizziness that started to claim him. He was so not in the mood to discuss what had happened. So not in the mood to let him get thru with his self-hatred. This was all on Abaddon and no one else. If there was someone to blame it was the black-eyed monster.

„ _Please_.", he whispered pleadingly. „Don't make me beg for it ...", Sam's voice grew more silent, as he felt the overwhelming urge to sit down somewhere, even if it was the floor.

Dean assessed to say something against it, as he noticed Sam's distress and signs of an inner fight, as the knuckles of his hand turned white when he tried to hold onto the table tighter.

„Sam?", he asked, his facial expression immediately changing into blanc worry.

And that was the exact moment, when everything seemed to happen at once. Sam's knees gave out. Dean jumped up from the chair, shoving him backwards and causing him to topple over. Then he was behind Sam, wrapping his arms around him, before he would highly possible hit the ground without having a chance to stop the fall by himself. The hunter went down with him slowly, holding him tight not to lose his grip on him.

„Sam?", he asked again as the both of them sat on the floor, Sam's head resting on the hunter's shoulder. Concern swung in his voice.

He got a weak moan in respond, as Sam's eyes rolled back into his head, his body going limp in the hunter's arms.

„Sammy, talk to me ...", he whispered, eyes already filling with tears again. „C'mon. - Don't pass out on me here. Not while we're going to have our first real fight about something completely stupid." He nearly whimpered the last few words, suppressing his tears from streaming down his face again.

„No-ot ya' f-fau't, D'n.", he managed to say as it was the most important thing he had to deliver. „Not yours …" With the little strength he had, he gripped the hunter's arm tightly, holding onto him. „Stay … _pl-e-e-ase_ … STAY.", he choked out, sucking in a wheezing breath.

„Not going anywhere okay?" All his good intentions not to come near the younger man again until the spell was done gone right there. Sam wasn't mad at him … He had come for him. Worried that he'd leave, that he'd let him alone …

„Stayin' with me?", Sam asked silently.

Dean nodded, grabbing Sam's cool hands and pulling them up towards his chest. „Are you hurtin'?"

Sam shook his head. Yes he was, but he'd do a hell about telling Dean. „ _No_."

Though, the hunter seemed not to believe him in an instant. He knew how sore Sam's neck had to be, because he knew how it felt like to get choked (Demons seemed to have a thing for that shit). He knew how the day after felt and how he had been doing afterwards. - And he hadn't been even close to what he had done to Sam this morning.

The hunter shifted the man in his arms a little so he was able to look at his face and into his eyes. There was nothin but pure love. No fear, no sadness, just love and the warmth of deep affection towards the hunter. Sam even managed a weak smile.

„Me and Bobby'll take care of it tonight, promise.", he whispered, brushing gently over Sam's cheek as he did so. „It won't happen again. - There's no way I'll let it happen again ..."

„I know you won't.", the younger man croaked out. „You'll look out for me.", he added and snuggled into Dean, closing his eyes.

Yeah, he knew it – despite what had happened this morning – Dean would keep this promise and Sam would keep his: Not to let anything happen to the hunter any further.

* * *

Dean had taken him to the couch and thrown in a movie – again. Sam sat curled up pressed against the hunter's side. The younger man was drifting in and out of tiny naps, like he was afraid that Dean would leave while he was sleeping. And it might would've happened if he did. The hunter was still tense and unsure of how to act, even when Sam gave him no doubt that everything was okay between them. Probably because Dean knew that nothing was okay right now. Not until they had done the ritual, and at a later point, Abaddon's head on a stick.

„You know … you could close your eyes and just sleep.", Dean muttered hoarsely and tugged Sam closer. „I promised you I won't go anywhere ..."

Sam sniffed, his eyes on half-mast. „Liar.", he gave back silently.

A little bit stunned, the hunter shot him a glare. Wherever because Sam had caught him in the act, or because of naming him a liar. Dean wasn't completely sure yet.

„I can see that you're thinking about it.", he gave back, clenching the hunter's shirt in his fist. „I'm not scared of you."

Another thing Dean was kind of afraid at the moment: Sam wasn't wary enough around him. He could fall asleep right there and have one of those dreams … and Sam just didn't seem to care.

The hunter literally counted the minutes for Bobby's and Ellen's return to the Salvage at this point. Because he didn't trust himself as much as Sam obviously did.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

**BACON?**


	7. Chapter 7

** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 27 Demon's Blood **

It was already early afternoon.

Sam had finally fallen asleep on the couch, his head resting in the hunter's lap, curled up into a tight breathing ball. - Just like that. Just like nothing had happened before. And Dean didn't get, how the younger man was able to sleep like this in his presence. Either he honestly trusted the hunter just like that, or he wasn't all by himself.

Dean leaned back and closed his eyes for a brief second. He could've needed a little nap too, but didn't dare because of fear he'd try to hurt (didn't sound as bad as kill in his mind) Sam again. So no rest for Dean Winchester under this special circumstances. He'd be able to get enough sleep as soon as the spell was done and the ritual performed. Until then he had to hold on – for Sam's sake.

He played gently with a lock of Sam's soft hair, winding it around his index-finger. He was so beautiful like this ... had always been.

A gentle smile enlightened Dean's face as he thought about how good it felt to have Sam so close to him. And to be honest: He didn't even know anymore why the hell he had ever prefered to be all on his own, except for Lola and Alex – when he needed them. But even there ... there had just been this sexual affection, nothing more, nothing less.

Somehow it was weird how comfortable he felt with Sam. Of course it hadn't been easy, for neither if them. But holy hell ... he'd go thru hell and back just for him. He'd do everything to keep him save, even if it meant to die.

The hunter got torn away from his thoughts, as he heard the low rumble from Bobby's Mustang. Then the engine died and the front door banged open just seconds later. Another moment later he was facing Bobby and Ellen, who seemed pretty troubled – and were back way sooner than they had told him.

"Shhh.", Dean laid a finger over his lips, tilting his head down to show them that Sam was asleep. "Just napped off.", he whispered.

The both of them nodded towards him. "Kitchen.", Bobby mouthed. And even when no noise came out of his throat, Dean was able to hear his gruff voice even old man gave him his _i-told-you-so-glare_ and vanished from the livingroom.

Ellen instead sat down on the coffee table and took in the both of them, watching them closely, while the younger male snuggled into Dean's lap, and the hunter petted his head gently.

"Is it bad?", she asked finally without looking up from Sam, a glint of confusion in her voice, since she figured – by the way Dean had portrayed what had happened – it'd be a whole lot worse. That they'd find Sam curled up in some corner of the house and Dean with a glass of whiskey in his hand. And in fact ... there they were on the couch, Sam snuggling into the guys lap who tried to kill him.

Dean nodded, and hooked his finger into the scarf around the younger man's neck, pulling it down as much as possible without waking him.

The hunter instantly recognized her tense for a moment as her look fell on the bruises. Then the huntress looked at Dean with something ... unutterably ... in her eyes.

"And he's not even mad ...", Dean huffed silently, tugging the scarf up again and shaking his head. "He should run ..."

Ellen blew out a long drawn breath and looked at Sam again, than back up at Dean. "Well, i guess he knows that it ... he ... he probably know that it wasn't really you doing this."

Dean huffed and sniffed, resting his hand on Sam's neck. "Doesn't mean i wouldn't have killed him. - Because in my dream, i knew specially well who i was hunting and why. I knew it was Sam. I knew i was killing him. And i liked it ...", he nearly hissed at her, words soaked in disgust and hatred.

Then there was silence for a long while.

"So ... we'll get the blood tonight?", she asked – hesitation in her voice.  
Dean nodded and looked down into his lap. "Yeah. - And some information about Abaddon ..."

* * *

And so it was. Sam was already awake and curled up on the couch of the living-room when the three hunters emerged from the barn behind the salvage.

The nights started to get warmer already, and it wasn't that bitterly cold anymore. There was no need for gloves, scarfs and hats anymore. A thinner jacket reached out too.

Though it got still dark at around five pm. So it was now. From the yard, wich they crossed, Dean could see that the lights were still out. Thinking of how Sam would react if he'd wake up to darkness and no one home, since he obviously seemed to be scared that Dean would leave ... or dump him, or whatever in the head of Sam went down sometimes.

The hunter thought that the young man over there maybe just stuck with him, because he didn't want to be alone ... didn't want to go back where darkness would swallow him again. And then, on the other hand, there was this smile, whenever Dean looked at him. So happy and innocent and just adorable. So much love and affection shining in green hazel-orbs. _It had to be love, hadn't it?_ Whatever these voices back in his mind – maybe the echoes of his dreams – sang to him, he knew they weren't right. Because he'd know if it would've been different.

Dean shoved his unpleasant thoughts aside as he opened the front door to Bobby's house, leaving it open for the ones who followed. And than – without any hesitation – he went streight into the living-room towards the couch, where he found a sitting Sasquatch.

"Sammy?", he asked and stopped in his tracks, waiting for some kind of okay to narrow further, since he couldn't make out his face in the darkness. At least not the whole one. His eyes narrowed and his gaze closed around the beams of moonlight that hit Sam's left cheek, letting sparks like crystals dance on a wet layer on soft skin.

Somehow the hunter felt glad that he hadn't turned on the lights yet. He needed to hide the drying blood on his hands and his shirt from Sam. It hadn't been something he was proud of. He hadn't done it in pretty some time either. But it had gotten necessary – they needed the damn blood to get the spell and ritual done that hopefully would free him from his nightmares.

A silent sob and a swallowed hiccup followed and Dean saw the dark figure on the couch turn away.

Bobby and Ellen came short after him and stood back, waiting for Dean to do something.

"It's okay.", Sam muttered and rose from his seat. "I just ... I'll go upstairs."

The three hunters shared confused looks as Sam walked past them and towards the stairs in the darkness. It made the impression like he tried to flee and get as much distance between them as possible. Dean blew out a deep breath and turned around on his heels. The hunter wasn't sure if it'd be a good idea to share a bed with Sam tonight, so he had thought about sleeping on the couch. Trying it out, making sure Sam wouldn't get hurt anymore. But he also refused to let Sam just disappear like this.

He knew him. He knew the man extraordinary well since they had spent nearly every minute of the days together, so he figured that letting Sam alone wasn't the greatest idea at the moment. Maybe, when he had fallen asleep he'd sneak downstairs again to get a nap on the couch.

* * *

Dean nodded his good night towards Ellen and Bobby, while he went upstairs in the dark, aiming streight at the bathroom to get rid from the blood and dirt on his body. When he was done with showering, he sneaked into their bedroom. The small lamp on the nightstand beside his side of the bed illuminated the room gently.

There was a bulge on the other side, hidden by covers – and like always – a crazy mop of hair peeked out on the top of it. An amused smile spread over the hunter's face and he cocked an eyebrow. Just as he saw the form shift, his face fell again and tiptoed to the bed, stripping off the bathrobe and slit with just his boxers under the sheets, inching towards the him until he felt Sam's soft flannel brush over his bare skin.

"Come 'ere.", he whispered, and laid his hand on Sam's hip, tugging gently.

He didn't move. So the hunter's eyes narrowed. He couldn't believe that Sam tried to fake to be asleep. Maybe the realization that the hunter was dangerous hit Sam just a little too late?

Dean eyed the mop of hair that remained unmoved, felt the tension in the body beside him. Somehow he feared to ask what he longed to know ... "Wanna tell me what's wrong?"

Then there was silence again. Strained silence. Filling the air around them and the whole room.

"Sunshine?" ... was he even still allowed to call him that? After all?

More silence.

Then finally, after a long drawn breath, Sam stirred under the covers. "Did you kill it?" His voice was tiny and hesitant.

Dean's face darkened instantly and his grip on Sam's hip tightened, before he let his hand slip away and propped himself up on his elbow.

Sam felt like walking over thin ice. - He knew that Dean was still Dean. - But he also couldn't deny that he was kind of aware, that Dean wasn't Dean right now. What actually didn't make a lot of sence to anyone except Sam of course. But there was no other way to describe it anyway.

"I woke to its screams.", he explained silently, and tugged the covers down, glancing over his shoulder towards the hunter.

"I - ... I'm sorry Sam. - You weren't supposed to know ...", Dean tried to explain.

Sam turned on his back, eying the hunter concerned. "Did you torture it?"

 _Was it a trick question?_ The hunter looked aside.

Sam turned back on his side, away from the hunter, wrapping his arms around himself. He knew how torture sounded. He knew how it felt – at least he thought so. Though there was a difference in between hearing his own screams and the once of someone else. Yeah _someONE_ else. Because even when it was the demon that got tortured, there always remained it's host. True, sometimes their vessels were empty shells when they stayed long enough in one. But sometimes ... _sometimes_ there was still a soul bound to the body. Fighting, screaming and tortured himself. And Sam was able to see thru them. He was able to see if the human's soul was still present, or had already left. And in this case it hadn't. There had still been this innocent piece of humanity locked inside. Probably feeling every single thing the hunters had done to it – and not just to the black-eyed monster.

"You know ... she was still alive ...", Sam muttered, a silent tear running over his face. "She felt it all ..."

"How'd YOU know?", he asked, his voice strained and somehow on the edge. Dean's frown deepened in anger for a moment. No one was supposed to tell him something about demons. No one. He hunted them ever since, or exorcised them when he thought sending them back to hell would be a greater meaning in all of this. Then his eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again.

"I just do ...", Sam answered and squeezed his eyes shut. "Besides ... I don't think that the spell's going to work. Either will the ritual ..." Sam took a low breath before he continued: "It's not clean. - The blood isn't pure enough. You'll just waste your time ..." . _.. and the girl suffered needlessly._

"How could you possibly know?", he asked again, this time way softer and empathic. The hunter laid a hand on Sam's shoulder and felt him tense under his touch for a brief moment.

"And I think that its way safer to summon a demon, instead picking up a random one." Sam's voice stayed soft and silent like he was reading the hunter a good-nights-tale.

Dean glared at him like he'd seen a ghost. "Tell me, how'd you know, damn it.", he demanded with more force in his voice. "Sam?" Well this seemed like an order. The hunter felt himself getting angrier. Something inside him started to boil. His grip on Sam's shoulder tightened.

"Can we go to sleep?", he asked, laying his hand over Dean's, to show him that he wasn't that mad at him. Probably the hunter haven't even known what he did to that poor girl.

Dean nodded, trying to get his emotions back down. He wasn't himself right now, and he knew it. If Sam didn't want to tell him, then he probably had his reasons. Just like this. There was no reason to push right now, he decided, and who the hell knew how Sam was able to know all of this anyway. Dean attempted to wrap his arms around him, but stopped himself in mid-motion. "Can I ...?", he asked hesitantly.

Sam sniffed and glanced over his shoulder with wet eyes. "You just saw the monster in her, didn't you?" The words just toppled over his lips and Sam couldn't hold them back. "You saw black eyes and you decided to make her scream and beg." the younger man's eyes filled with blackness and new tears.

"Sammy.", Dean whispered broken. "She was a monster."

He swallowed a sob but wasn't able to hold back a hiccup. "She wasn't the monster. - The monster was in her. There's a difference. I AM A MONSTER. She was just human and had the damn rough luck to be possessed."

The hunter still didn't understand. Though he tried. He really tried but failed right there. He was too tired. Too exhausted for that shit.

"Sam. - _You're not a monster_ , damn it. And you know that. - The girl on the other hand ...", That was when he started to understand what Sam meant to tell him. That the possessed girl inside had been still alive – until Dean Winchester had crossed her path. True, the job as a hunter made you numb to different things in life. That was just how it was. And wouldn't there be this deadness to some parts in life a hunter wouldn't survive – at least not mentally.

"So ... you know how to summon a demon?", Dean asked like it was the most usual thing in the world. Sure, he had heard of it but he had actually never tried before since he wasn't all bothered to meet one intentionally.

Sam's hand slid from his. He honestly didn't want to think about it right now. He still had the girls agonized screams in his head, begging and preying. Probably the damn demon had pulled back inside her, playing one of its creepy sick games before the hunter sent it back to hell or killed it.

"Yes.", came back, more silent as a whisper could've ever been. Leaving out that the book with the summoning-spell was right under the bed with a couple of other books. He actually hadn't saved it up for Dean's purposes though.  
He had other plans ... one to save Dean and his friends.

* * *

Things went down to normal again – as far as being captured on the scrap yard and haunted dreams by a demon could possibly be normal at all. But actually it was. For them it was their daily business. It was hunter's business. Winchester's business.

After the night they had actually tortured the demon and taken his blood, things settled down. The hunter had wanted to do the ritual the night after they had gotten pure blood. But actually ... a pretty clumsy Sasquatch had skipped the damn bowl from Bobby's desk. Now they had to find another demon's name to be able and summon one.

While Dean seemed to get more agitated every day, Sam seemed to get calmer. Though the two of them enjoyed their time together, no matter what. Just with the difference, that Dean wouldn't spend the nights in the same room as Sam. He prefered the couch lately, though he missed the younger man's body beside him. So did Sam. And every night he woke up to the empty space beside him, he sneaked downstairs with one of the blankets and made himself comfortable on the floor beside the couch.

So no matter how hard Dean tried to keep Sam at bay, every day he woke there was this giant guy sleeping next to him anyway. And he was happy. Even with all the troubles around, he was honestly happy to be who and what he was. And the most important of all ... that Sam was with him. That Sam trusted him, really trusted him. So yeah, happy was the understatement of the year for the Winchester.

Until ... well ... until Sam came up with a crappy plan to get a hold of Abaddon and lure her into a trap.

_... to be continued_

* * *

**BACON? (pretty please)**

* * *

** Fall Of Darkness  **

** Chapter 28 ~ The Deal **

Dean yelled. Actually yelled at Sam. Right there in front of Ellen and Bobby and Caleb (who just got thru the front door). He told him to stop and to leave it be ... but Sam didn't. He just carried on, trying to explain his plan, that was meant to be a good one.

"You're so not doing that.", Dean hissed, slamming his hand into the wall. "It's too damn dangerous."

The younger man wouldn't look away from Dean. "Dean.", he said calmly. "It's not. - You'll be there. I told you that i trust you on this. I'll call _it_. It's gonna lead _it_ streight to me – And you'll be there – with me." he sighed. " And you'll shoot _it_."

" _No_ , no way in hell." Dean yelled again, anger flaring up in his emerald-green orbs.

Sam sighed.

"It's a good plan.", Bobby leaned in the door frame and eyed the both of them. "More than we have anyways. - We just can't put the guardian-spell up to keep ya' nightmares at bay. It'll make her suspicious and she'll know that something's up. - You'd have to hold on with your nightmares until then."

"But _I can't_!", Dean actually growled at Bobby, staring daggers at him. "You saw what I did to Sam! - I could kill him in the meantime! We can't wait any longer. And _I_ won't."

Sam jumped up, his look glued to the ground. "You can't stop me from doing it. - Either you're with me on this, or I'm going to do it on my own, without you. - You can't watch me 7/24 all the time." Sam's voice stayed calm and reassuring. Then he looked up, catching the hunter's raged gaze.

„Who do _YOU_ think you are, hu?", the hunter hissed. „You've no idea what we're dealing with. How dangerous this chick is. You've no idea what's going on out there at the moment! They've probably set up a bounty on your head, Sam!"

The younger man sniffed. „I do know with whom we're dealing with, since I spent _years_ with them. - So don't tell me what i know and what i don't know." This had to be the first time ever since Sam was with him, that there was something like anger flaring up in the younger man's voice and eyes. „I know that it's dangerous. - But I'm rather dead than see one of you die – or worse.", and with these words Sam stormed across the room, towards the hall.

He shoved Dean aside violently, who tried to block the threshold and stop Sam from leaving. But no such luck. Weeks ago the younger man would've probably stopped and done what Dean had told him to do. But not this Sam. This Sam was different.

Then he was gone, storming out of the front door with a loud thud of the door behind him, leaving three stuttered hunters speechless in the living-room.

Dean closed his eyes and exhaled audibly, trying to calm his raw nerves down. It wasn't that he thought that it was a bad plan. - To be honest: It was because Sam was the bait. Because Sam was the one in danger in the first place and because he didn't want to risk him. Risk Sam's life. Of course he had dealed with other dangerous situations before. But it was never about loosing someone he dearly _loved_.

„He's as pig-headed as you are.", with these words Ellen turned around and strolled towards the kitchen. „Just wondering from whom he could probably got that habit!", she called out in a fairly amused sound.

Yep well … Dean Winchester couldn't deny that one.

* * *

It took nearly an hour until Dean started to get too agitated to stay put in the house. He had thought about everything again – _and again_. And about Sam … alone outside. Strolling over the yard or sitting somewhere. - Without shoes _AGAIN_. Sam was never thinking about putting on his damn kickers when he intended to storm off like this. Damn it, he didn't even put on a jacket this time. Sure, it wasn't that cold anymore, but cold enough to catch a cold.

It hadn't been fair to say that the younger man hadn't a clue about demons. Sam probably knew a whole lotta more as Dean. He had questioned Sam, he knew that. And it had been damn unfair. Instead of trying to take in, what Sam offered, he just pushed him away – _AGAIN_.

Sitting on the couch with a glass of bourbon in his hand, he sighed deeply and emptied the glass in one long gulp before he sat it back on the table audibly. Then he got up with a grunt, picking his leather jacket and the blanket from the couch up. It was time to say that he was sorry, and that they'd listen and discuss Sam's plan …

* * *

Sam had sat in the old wreck of a Buick for a long while now. It wasn't like he was thinking about something in particular. Mostly about the fight he had with Dean … and then again about Abaddon, about the clouds above him and the warming sun of the late morning gleaming down at the old car and warmed it up a bit.

Of course he had skipped the damn bowl with the blood intentionally. He didn't want Abaddon to become suspicious. He wanted to take her out for good, because one thing was for sure: Even if he'd deliver himself to Abaddon, she'd still take out Dean, Bobby, Ellen and the others, who had grown to him. Became some sort of _family_.

He didn't understand why Dean didn't want to let him call it. To get over with all of it. Okay, scratch that … the hunter probably didn't want to do it because of the same reasons he wanted to. He knew that, though …..

* * *

The gravel crunched under his heavy boots while he made his way over the yard, taking in his surroundings curiously. He had already searched the whole place for the sasquatch he used to call his boyfriend. Probably he had drawn back somewhere. Though the garage and the barn were empty, so he had to be in one of the damn wrecks – one of about two-hundred wrecks to be certain.

A frustrated groan wrenched from the hunter's throat as he rounded another corner, checking the wrecks for a very special inhabitant.

And finally, what seemed like an eternity later, he found an old Buick on the top of three other wrecks, whose windows were fogged. Signs that there was someone inside, and he'd bed his baby that it was Sam, huddled into the passenger's seat or the backseat. Though he kinda wondered how he had gotten up there and how _he_ was supposed to get up there.

„Sammy?!", he called out, eying the car above. „I know you're up there. - _Please_."

Nothing.

„Do I have to climb up there and get ya'?", he dared, sensing a challenge. Winchesters were always up for challenges. - How was he just able to explain to Sam why the hell he didn't want to do it that way, why he would prefer to go on hiding from Abaddon?

„Go away!", came back from high above the hunter's head.

Dean snorted. „I won't. - Not until you come with me!" Then he waited, watching the wreck shift. Probably Sam had changed his position.

„ _Please_ – go away!", came then, like the „ _please_ " would change anything about the hunter's determination to get Sam back into the house with him.

„Well then.", Dean muttered and added a low growl, making himself ready to get on top of the damn stack. „I guess I've to go and get ya'."

He wouldn't have been a Winchester if he wouldn't have known how to get up there. Eying the vehicle curiously, he walked over another boiled out car-roof before he laid a hand on the handle of the door that was still separating him from Sam. Dean grinned satisfied as he sensed a movement thru the fogged window.

He opened the door slowly and bowed down to lurk inside. Sam sat hunched up on the opposite side, his back leaning against the door, and his legs pulled up. He glanced at the hunter thru long chest-nut-brown bangs.

Without loosing any word, the hunter got on the backseat and pulled the door shut behind him, his gaze glued to the younger man.

„You're right.", he began after a long silence. „It's a good plan. I'm just too afraid it goes south.", he admitted and leaned back. „I'm not willing to put you in danger since we seem to be halfway save on the Salvage anyway."

Sam sniffed and rubbed his nose against the denim of his jeans. „How can I convince you?", he asked after another while of total silence between the both of them.

Dean shrugged and looked aside. You can't … was what he wanted to say, but he couldn't. He knew how important it was to get rid of that demon bitch. Otherwise she'd rule their life until one of them was dead.

„You don't have to.", he said against all the screaming voices in his mind, that told him not to do it. „We're gonna do it. - But I'm planning this. I'll be there. And you'll do as I say." The hunter seemed to be cool, but his voice had edges of regret and sorrow.

Sam nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. „Thank you.", he whispered trying not to add: _I would've done it anyway. With or without you …_

Dean watched the younger man closely for a while, who still stared at him thru long bangs. „So we're good?"

Sam nodded and let his feet (aka barrier) sink down, his socks dirty from the gravel and cold from the metal under them. He shivered a bit.

The hunter laid his hand over the backrest and smiled at Sam, petting at the blanket in his lap. „You're one stubborn bitch, you know that?", he asked with a cheeky smirk.

Sam chuckled. „And you … you're … a ..." He seemed to think hard. „Jerk!", he blurted out, a saucy grin on his lips.

„I know.", Dean growled low and tugged the blanket aside, giving Sam an introducing look. „It's cold outside. We should get back into the house."

Sam tilted his head to the side and sighed. „Can we stay here? A little bit longer?", he asked hesitantly.

Dean frowned.

„Just a little bit?", Sam urged.

The hunter nodded with a deep sigh and petted on the torn leather beside him. „Okay. - A couple of minutes, Sunshine."

The younger man smiled happily and crawled towards the hunter, letting him wrap the blanket around them both. Strong arms pulled him closer. Dean laid his hand on Sam's – still sensitive – neck and drew him closer towards his chest, so that he rested against it. He felt the younger man shiver slighty, so he tugged the blanket firmer around Sam.

Both of them savoured the silence, just broken by their calm breaths. They sat there for a while like this and Sam's shuddering stilled, as he guided his hands under the hunter's shirts, searching for skin-contact.

Dean let out a low growl, as he felt the younger man's cool hands brushing over the warm skin of his stomach. Sam guided his hands apart, letting them rest on Dean's waist, who scooted a little bit forward on the seat.

Sam let out a silent purr, as the warmth of the hunter's skin soaked into his hands, feeling rigid muscles and silken skin under his fingers. Dean groaned again, triggering something in Sam that sent an aroused shiver down his spine streight into his guts and manhood.

He looked up at the hunter, meeting his gaze and smiled. Just smiled and all those tiny dimples flashed over Sam's face, illuminating the car's backseat. Dean couldn't do anything else than smile back at him.

Sam ever so slowly crawled onto the hunter's lap, his legs to the left and right from Dean's thighs. Dean looked deep into his darkening hazel-orbs, while he laid his hand on the younger male's neck and pulled him down into a gentle kiss. Sam cradled the older man's face in his hands, while he let him caressing his mouth.

He shifted into a more comfortable position on Dean's lap, provoking aroused moans as he brushed over the hardness beneath him. The hunter's head fell back as Sam started to nibble and kiss his way over his neck, his hands roaming gently over his clothed body towards the hem of Dean's shirt. That was where Sam's long fingers slipped beneath, caressing the overheated skin along Dean's waistband and navel, causing gasps and goosebumps all over his skin.

Sam returned with his lips back at Dean's, sealing his over the hunters ever so gently, while he unfastened the belt with shaking fingers. Suddenly he stopped at tilted his head to the side, gazing at the hunter with a questioning expression in his eyes.

But Dean just pulled him back into another kiss, deeper and with way more heat, saying yes.

„We … we should go … inside, Sunshine.", Dean muttered husky into the kiss.

„No.", Sam whispered breathlessly.

„It's cold.", he intervened gasping, as he felt the zipper of his jeans drawn down, and sneaky fingers tugging on the waistband of his pants.

„Don't care.", the younger man returned, rubbing again over the hunter's straining erection.

„You're so not gonna undress me out here." The hunter settled his hands on Sam's waist, rubbing against him.

He chuckled. „Don't have to." Sam just broke the kiss to get rid of his hoody.

The hunter let out a low guttural groan, as he felt Sam's bare chest under his touch, feeling him move, rough denim brushing over the soft fabric of his pants. Until the hunter was a writhing mess under him and couldn't take it anymore. Dean started to unbuckle Sam's jeans, feeling a hard bulge under his touch.

„We … we should HONESTLY go … inside, Sunshine.", the hunter moaned pretty distracted. „We don't have anything here …"

„Don't need something else.", the other man whispered and bit into his earlobe.

Dean groaned, arching up with his hips for more friction, feeling cool hands on his pants, tugging them down, just so his hard length was meeting the cold air and a firm grip.

The car shifted on top of the others, as Sam got rid awkwardly of his jeans and boxer-briefs, trying not to break their lip's touch while he did so. Then he settled back on the hunter's lap, rubbing himself alongside with Dean.

„You'll ...", the hunter's mind already distracted by arousal, „... catch a damn cold – like this ..." Dean groaned as he pressed against him harder.

Sam nipped and sucked on the hunter's neck, tracing his tongue back up to his ear. „Don't you like me like this?", he asked teasing, guiding the hunter's hand up towards his left dug.

„Holy mother of …", Dean's eyes roll back into his head and a breathless moan followed as Sam's long fingers wrapped around him again, brushing lightly up and down along the hard flesh.

The younger man let go of him, gathering the hunter's other hand and led it to his lips and into his mouth. Another sensual moan fell from Dean's lips as Sam started to lick and suck on them, until they were slick with saliva.

After a while he guided the hunter's fingers out and tugged them in between his tights, showing him the way to his tough globes. The hunter moaned at the unexpected invitation and started to massage Sam's puckered opening. The younger man threw his head back and let out a guttural silent grunt, as he felt him entering. By the time Dean had buried two of his fingers in him, Sam had already lost his ability to think streight. He braced himself against the backrest with his hands, while he slowly rode in a teasing pace on the hunter's fingers.

Dean brushed dark bangs of hair from Sam's face to catch his blackened eyes, and gathered his hair in his fist, tugging his head back slightly, to catch Sam's lips all over again. There was nothing else left the hunter was able to do in his restricted abilities to move.

Sam lifted off of him then and slid in an awkward ankle in between the hunter's still clothed legs and wetted his lips, before he closed them around the hunter's manhood, causing a gasp and silent moaned curses.

The younger man started his teasing slow rhythm of ups and downs along his hard length, using his tongue from time to time to get those growled noises deep down from the hunter's throat as respond.

It was then, when Sam's skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat and he started to feel the chill of cool air, that he let go of him and rose back onto the hunter's lap. Dean slid down a little bit more, so that his butt was on the very edge of the backseat as Sam kissed him again. Slow and sweet kisses, while he rose a little bit to line up with the hunter's arousal. And then – so slowly – he sank down on him. Inch by inch, until Dean was completely settled inside him.

The hunter's hands fisted in Sam's hair to hold him right there, unable to move for a couple of moments. Tasting Sam on his tongue and all over the insides of his mouth.

When Sam started to move, all words were gone between them, except Dean's whispered „ _so_ _beautiful_ " and „ _oh god_ 's" towards Sam. The younger man arched his back back, increasing his rise and fall and the circlings of his hips, feeling gentle hands roaming over his chest and down towards his stomach, making all these silent happy noises wich lifted Dean's arousal higher and higher.

It was then, when Sam toppled right over the highest of hills, when Dean followed him right behind.

Sam collapsed against the hunter, nuzzling into the crock of Dean's shoulder, who wrapped his arms around the sweat-covered body of him. Seconds or minutes passed, until the hunter was able to move in his post-orgasmic haze. He reached for the blanket, wich had gone somewhere between the backrest and his back, pulling it free and threw it over Sam's cooling body.

The hunter ran his fingers thru Sam's dump hair, letting his overheated hand rest on his neck. „We're still playing along my rules, Sunshine. - When we do it, we're doing it together ...", he muttered, still trying to get his raged breathing under control.

Sam just moaned a slurred respond and the hunter chuckled.

* * *

_a couple of hours later … in Bobby's house … in the dining-room … (just so you know)_

Bobby, Ellen, Caleb, Sam and Dean sat on the dining table. Actually they should've been eating, but actually no one – neither Dean – seemed to be hungry at all. They were too lost in the discussions about Sam plan.

Sam's plan. Dean still tried to deal with the fact, that the younger man wouldn't back off about this. And somewhere deep in his mind he knew that Abaddon wouldn't let go of them.

„First we've to find an ideal location for it. - We need at least two exits and as less rooms as possible.", Bobby said calmly, poking around in the mess that once was roast beef and mashed potatoes.

„We need two of us on the outside, and two on the inside.", Ellen added.

„And the exorcism-balls.", Caleb added.

„The exorcism won't work on Abaddon.", Sam threw in. „Neither does your knife probably." He glanced at Dean.

„So we actually don't even know how to take her down ..." The youngest among the hunters sighed deeply.

„But you could shoot it. - It won't be able to move from where it is … and then ...", Sam said hesitating.

An evil grin spread all over Caleb's face. „Then we'll **chop** her head off." He laughed manically and earned a row of disturbed looks. The hunter cleared his throat and sighed. „Sorry ..."

„And actually not even a bad one ...", Dean added. „That's how we do it. - Caleb: you get us the location. - Bobby: you check out if there's another way to get her down. - Sam's giving me the details about how it works to call that bitch. And Ellen and me are going to make some of the exo-bombs."

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** NOW: **

** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 29 ~ The End Of Your World **

_one week later …_

Dean laid sprawled out on his back on the bed, silken covers caressing his golden skin, while Sam laid curled up into the hunters side. One arm thrown over Dean's middle, holding him close during the night.

They hadn't done the ritual to block the hunter's nightmares. - So yeah, there have been some situations during the nights, where Sam got his fair amount of them anyway. And it had gotten worse, though the young man was still determined to cross the line and call Abaddon, luring her into a deadly trap.

They had the place set it up the day before. A giant invisible drawing of Salomon's key on the ceiling and the floor of a small warehouse on the outskirts of Sioux Falls. Bobby had said that it was probably the only thing that could be able to hold Abaddon for longer as five minutes. He had digged out the holy oil for the outer circle of the trap, wich Bobby meant would improve the effect of the trap on her.

That was when Sam realized something that hadn't been there in Bobby's eyes before. It was just a split second that something crossed the old hunter's face: a spark of darkness. And yeah, it had made Sam uneasy for a while. Maybe it had been just because of the tensed lingering atmosphere lately, so the young man forgot about it soon.

The hunters hoped that it wouldn't be that necessary and that one of them would've put one of their bullets into her body to hold her, while the exo-bombs (lovingly called by Dean Winchester) would take out the other demons. Yes others. The hunters didn't count on it that Abaddon would come all on her own, even if she probably wouldn't need them anyway.

And since Dean didn't want Sam to use his abilities there – because of what they'd do to him – he had chosen to use the bombs in case, to exorcise the demon.

Dean Winchester had planned everything into the tiniest detail. He even had a backup plan if something would go south and they'd take Sam with them.

That was why they had waited for another week to pass, until the small cut on Sam's neck and the one on Dean's hand were healed perfectly and the demons wouldn't suspect something. They'd find each other now, no matter what.

* * *

The hunter yawned and stretched his body, feeling Sam move and his arm shift downwards a bit.

„Fife more minutes.", the younger man grumbled silently without opening his eyes.

The hunter grinned. „Nah … ten.", he gave back hoarsely.

Sam chuckled and rubbed his nose on the side of Dean's ribcage, purring comfortably. The hunter flinched away as Sam's nose tickled him and let out a snort. „That's tickling."

Sam did it again, this time completely aware and provoking.

„Sam.", Dean groaned giggling and pushed the younger man's head away gently. „Don't."

„Okay.", he muttered and a second later he was all over the hunter, pinning him down underneath him and long fingers digged gently into the hunter's sides, tickling him.

Dean writhed laughing under him, until he found the breath for a counter-attack. Sam jumped up and threw himself off of the hunter in an attempt to flee and try to roll off the bed, but it was too late. Dean had his left angle in an iron grip, holding him back.  
Sam struggled, well aware and careful not to hit him in the face or somewhere else too hard, as Dean started to come for him.

„You're gonna pay for this, Sammy.", he chuckled as he climbed forward, holding Sam's leg in place.

Sam giggled and burst into laughter as the hunter started to tickle the bottom of his foot to distract the younger man. As he let go to catch a breath, he hopped forward, pinning Sam down under his body, into the soft mattress and covers.

„Off, off!", Sam yelled still chuckling. „Off of me. - get off!"

But the hunter didn't. Instead he strangled Sam's arm alongside his body and nipped on the sensitive skin of his neck. Slowly his smile faded .

„You sure about that?", Dean whispered thoughtfully. „About tonight?"

Now Sam's face fell too and the soft giggles stilled. „Yeah, I'm sure.", ge answered determined.

Dean let his head sink in between the younger man's shoulder blades and slowly released his arms and rolled off of him. Sam turned his head towards the hunter and managed a small smile. „You know why I'm so sure?"

Dean's head snapped towards him and he watched him closely. „No, Sam. I honestly don't."

Sam reached for Dean's hand, and tangled his fingers in the hunter's. „Because **you** 've planned this. - **You** 've prepared the warehouse with Bobby and Caleb. Because I trust **you**."

Dean couldn't do anything else but smiling back, as he sank into those deep bright hazel-green orbs that smiled warmly at him. Those dimples and tender lips curled up into a smile and the – nearly – gleaming skin of Sam's body in the morning-sun.

„Come 'ere.", the hunter whispered and Sam obeyed, crawling towards him, and nestled into the hunter's arms.

„If this goes south, I'm so gonna kick your ass, kiddo.", the hunter muttered with a deep thoughtful sigh.

Sam chuckled. „Nah … you love my ass.", he responded and sniffed. Then he glanced up at Dean, meeting emerald-green orbs, looking softly at him.

Everything went so still and silent. There was just the two of them in these couple of moments. Looking at each other, holding their breaths. Until the hunter tilted his head down and brushed with his lips over Sam's forehead, nose and finally tender cushions. Lowering himself a bit, he placed them onto Sam's rose lips for a gentle kiss.

„We've to get up and get something to eat. - Get ready for tonight.", Dean whispered gently and placed another kiss over his lips.

Sam wrapped his long arms around the hunter's middle. „Yeah … in ten minutes … or so."

Dean rolled his eyes and tugged at the long arms. „No, Sunshine. - _Now_."

The younger man closed his eyes and purred softly. „It's not even seven and I don't hear anyone else up.", he muttered and snuggled into the hunter's chest.

„Okay. - Ten minutes. Not longer.", he gave in and smiled satisfied, hoping that this wouldn't be their last morning waking up together like this.

* * *

Later that morning they had breakfast all together. Everyone of them obviously tried to act as normal as possible. But there was still this dread hanging in the air, nearly palpable. So they spent their breakfast mostly in silence.

The plan was simple, everything prepared and ready as it was supposed to be … _so what the hell could possibly go wrong?_ Dean didn't know, but he damn well had this uneasy feeling deep down in his insides. So did the other hunters - obviously. Though they were determined to pull thru it and get Abaddon tonight for good. They had planned everything. So yeah – there was no reason to worry, right?

* * *

It was about noon when the five of them started to drag their bags, ammo and the exo-bombs to their cars to store them in the trunks. After that they sat together in the dining-room, hunched over the construction-plan of the building. There was a giant red circle in the middle of it, where Salomon's key was painted. The green lines on the windows marked the already drawn salt-lines and the five blue dots showed the hunters and Sam. One was right in the middle of the trap (Sam), two were near by the giant front door to the left and right (Dean and Bobby) and two where in the other corners (Caleb and Ellen) on a slender cat-walk that was fixed about four yards above the floor.

Each of the hunters (except Sam of course) would be equipped with bag packs where they'd carry their exo-bombs.

As soon as the bomb (that looked like a tennis-ball) hit the ground it roared to life and started to recite a short exorcism spell.

Sam sat there, watching the hunters closely. He had the order to stay back as soon as he had made his „call" and was supposed to leave the stage for _Team Singer's Salvage_ (as Dean Winchester said) when Abaddon appeared. But he listened. He listened closely, and memorized everything they were discussing.

Dean shot him a couple of loving glances every now and then and Sam smiled back at him weakly.

An hour later – Ellen had made some toast and something that should've been soup out of a can, but actually looked odd. So they let it be and just parted. The dishes remained on the table – untouched. The soup went cold.

Dean and Sam pulled back upstairs into their room. The whole house was filled with tenseness, wherever they moved. So they stayed there. The both of them laid on the bed, curled into each other. Sam's head rested on the hunter's chest, listening to his heartbeat, while Dean played with the soft locks of the younger man's hair. Deep sunken in thoughts and too far gone, staring at nothing but thin air.

Dean might felt tense and on the edge, while he held Sam, afraid that tonight could change everything into the worst. Not only loosing Sam, but also setting a damn dangerous hell-bound creature free. Sam on the other side … he didn't think about that as much as Dean did. He just relaxed and dozed along, nuzzled and snuggled into the hunter's chest even further, searching for the safeness for wich he had seeked so long.

* * *

By the time they entered their cars, the sun was already disappearing behind the horizon. While Dean and Sam took the Impala, the other three hunters chose to get Ellen's pickup. Because in case that there'd be someone injured, they'd need something to transport them. And Ellen's car was way bigger than Bobby's.

Just half an hour later they arrived at the abandoned warehouse. Everything was silent. A little bit too silent for Dean's liking and he was wondering if they knew … if the demons knew what they had planned or if it was just imagination.

Dean turned the key in the ignition and the Impala's heart died instantly. The entire short drive the hunter had kept his hand on Sam's thigh and Sam had kept his hand over the hunter's. Their looks met in the dim light and they stared at each other for a moment, before their lips met. Dean deepened the kiss, as he cradled the younger man's head in his hands with closed eyes, trying to brand the taste and scent of him into his mind. Sam had one of his hands on Dean's neck, holding him close, giving into the kiss wich carried so many emotions it was unable to tell wich one of them was the strongest among them.

Finally the two of them managed to get out of the car. The last sun-beams flooded the landscape with deep red and dark-orange, as the hunters entered the warehouse. While the they took their stands, Sam made it into the middle of the warehouse, starting to unpack the items in his duffel-bag with shaky hands.

Hell yeah, he started to get nervous about this.

When he was done, and the brass bowl before him placed, he started to crumble different kinds of herbs into it. When he was done, he checked with a short glance and a nod at the others high above him. - They were ready, _so was he._

Dean held the zippo tight in his fist. He'd need it to set Salomon's key on fire to make it visible, as soon as Abaddon was in it. He had gotten some special gel from a pyrotechnist (in fact he had stolen it), to pull this little stunt.

A last trustful glance from Sam towards Dean and a reassuring smile, and Sam slit the palm of his hand open, hissing at the pain. Then he let his blood drop into the bowl, reciting the words that were on a small piece of paper. He then set the ingredients on fire and burned the paper with it. It did nothing by the way. Just burned down to ashes. Sam looked around curiously. So did the hunters. But no one dared to move anyway.

* * *

 _Three hours, forty-two minutes and six seconds_ had passed by now and nothing had happened. No one had shown up yet. Nearly four hours of waiting and dreadful silence.

Dean was all about to call it off, when the giant metal door burst open and no one lesser than Abaddon herself appeared, followed by five of her inferiors.

The hunters kept their heads down, pressing their bodies flush against the metal surface beneath them. Dean's attention was now on Abaddon. Just on her and no one else. His job was to throw the zippo as soon as she'd step into the invisible trap and put one of his special bullets into her skull.

The hunters were out of sight from wherever angle they would've scanned the room. Wouldn't there have been one among the friends that wasn't himself since quiet some time. Wouldn't there have been one of Dean Winchester's friends who was **possessed**.

That was why their plan was damned to fail … from the very beginning.

Sam rose from his sitting position and turned around to face the thing he had been running from the past months. There it was. Wearing this beautiful female, red-haired meat-suit, a scornful grin on her crimson-red lips.

It just took one movement of her hand to fling Sam backwards and nail him down in the middle of the invisible trap, while she walked forward. At pretty much the same moment Sam heard a yell and another one. Then the dump thump of two bodies hitting the ground. Moans and grunts from the two hunters that had been supposed to nail the bitch down.

But no such luck. Abaddon had known and had made up her own plan.

Dean rolled onto his back, the zippo fell from his hand, as a harsh kick into his ribcage let him gasp and fight for conciousness. He stared up at unfamiliar black eyes and the bearded face of his old friend. An evil grin on his lips, as he grabbed the hunter by his collar and pulled him with unnatural force up and on his feet.

Sam himself wasn't the vulnerable poor bastard anymore he had been before the hunters became his family. He didn't waste any time. His body may was bound by the force of the demon, but his mind wasn't.

The young man's eyes flashed black and with a simple small movement of his hand (balling it into a fist), he focused on the hosts around Abaddon. Feeling the tortured souls scream and yell inside the bodies, as he mentally gripped them and yanked them out of their vessels.

Five lifeless beings dropped to the floor and remained motionless where they hit the ground. That was when Abaddon drew the atame from her belt with a grim expression on her face. Sam fought against his invisible bindings, waiting for the trap to flare up with fire.

Ellen and Caleb lay motionless on the floor, unconscious from their unexpected flight and impact with hard concrete.

Dean had managed to get to his knife. He and Bobby were wrestling on the slender cat-walk, both of them fighting for dominance. Just with one difference: Dean didn't attempt to kill Bobby. But Bobby (as he actually was possessed) would do everything to throw the hunter over the banister or bury a knife in his enemy's chest to the hilt.

„Bobby – listen to me.", Dean panted as the monster pinned him to the wall. „You don't wanna do this. - You don't. I know you're in there."

But the demon seemed pretty unimpressed, while he tried to get the upper hand over the knife, Dean was trying to scratch over the older man's forearm to distract him.

„Stop screwing around!", Abaddon yelled towards the possessed hunter. „Bring him down here!"

She stood over Sam, her look on the fighting men on the catwalk.

And with this Bobby got a hold of Dean's wrist and in one fast motion he turned him around, so that Dean was facing the wall, his arm bowed in an unnatural angle on his back.

His demon-killing knife scattered to the ground beside his feet and toppled over the edge.

„Game over, boy.", the demon hissed. And with that he punched him into his side, sending him on his knees.

Dean gasped and his face was a grimace of pain, as he tried to make a deep inhale but failed. He held his side with his free hand, while his possessed friend lifted him back on his feet and pushed him forward. He stumbled down the stairs, trying to stay on his feet while his knees buckled and his mind still dizzy with a haze of pain.

His look flew over to Sam, who was still pinned to the floor by invisible forces. Sam looked at him and their gazes met over the distance. They didn't have to talk, nor giving each other signs. The hunter knew exactly what Sam was going to do as soon as they were close enough.

Ever since the younger man had explained to him, that he was able to „see" the hosts souls, Sam thought that it was possible to purge just the demon. Though he haven't ever done this before. Haven't even tried since there was never an opportunity for it.

Sam stole a glance at Bobby before he focused back on Dean. Blinking once. Twice. Then he returned his look at Abaddon. Furrowing his eyebrows and his face screwed up into a mask of disgust with a glimpse of fear.

„Let him go. - Let him go and I'm yours.", Sam said, trying to hold the despite in his words at bay.

And just like that Abaddon burst out into laughter, showing her white teeth. The atame gleamed in the pale light.

„I think you don't get that you're in no position to impose requirements.", she chuckled saucily with a winning grin on her lips. „You boys played along MY PLAN pretty well."

A shocked expression rushed over Dean's and Sam's face.

She set the tip of the blade on Sam's neck and drew a thin line along it. Just enough to draw blood.

„No!", Dean barked and tore on his bindings of flesh and bone.

„Oh yes!" Abaddon's look traveled towards the two hunter's on the floor. She threw her hair over the shoulder and made her way – cat-like – towards them, burying the blade in Caleb's side before she went for Ellen. Then – ever so slowly – she made her way back towards the trap and fell to her knees as she was back over Sam, sitting down on his stomach.

Sending a short blink and a glance towards Dean, Sam clenched his fist and the grip of the Demon who held the hunter back, loosened and Bobby sank boneless to the floor.

Sam sucked in a deep breath, holding onto the moment, since they weren't done yet. He could pass out any time later.

The young man's eyes darted towards the knight over him and before the blade was able to sink down, Sam's fist opened unconsciously and closed again.

Abaddon choked out a wheezing gasp, but didn't let go of the atame in her hand. She fought back.

Three long strides and a fall to his knees later, Dean was right in front of his zippo. He snapped the hood back and ran his finger over the rough wheel. A flame appeared and that was it. The hunter threw his fathers present into the invisible circle. Small flames made their way along the painted trap on the floor, surrounding Sam and the demon.

Sam felt Abaddon's forces drawing back. The weight on his body started to ease and Sam rose his fist towards the black-eyed monster, wich stared wide-eyed at him. But the young man knew that there was no way he'd be able to hold her like this. She was way stronger than the others. Had ever been. There was no way he'd be able to take her out like he would've done with a common demon.

„Dean!", he yelled. „Geht the gun!".

The hunter was back on his feet and his look flew up to the iron cat-walk above them. He must've lost the damn thing upstairs, when he was fighting with his possessed friend.

„Hold on!", Dean called back, tearing his lingering gaze from the mentally fighting figures in the circle.

The fire wouldn't burn for eternity. Nor would Sam's power hold her even longer. Dean could see it in Sam's face. He already started to struggle and Abaddon seemed to get a hold over her abilities back.

It was then, when Dean had nearly reached the iron stairs, that he heard an agonized cry from behind and the concrete rattled. His mind told him that it was too late, but his heart wouldn't allow the thought yet.

The hunter felt an icy grip, like giant fingers close around his torso and a moment later he was thrown backwards, landing right beside the circle of the dying fire.

Abaddon rose the atame again and grinned satisfied, as she glanced at the prone form just a couple of yards away from them. „So many what if's.", she sighed and blinked at Sam. „huh?"

He blinked at her, trying to hold the tears at bay as his gaze shifted towards Dean. He swallowed hard around the growing lump in his throat.

„Tell you what … this all wouldn't have been possible without the help of dear old Robert Singer. - He did a great job with the ...", she pointed up at the ceiling, then her gaze traveled over the „trap" around them, „... key." Then she smiled. „Right where I need it, to open the portal." She cocked an eyebrow. „To be honest: I thought that it'd be the hunter who'd give in earlier and would find a way to call for me or summon me. - _Handing you over._ But then, at the bar. I knew there was more between the both of you. I knew i wouldn't catch him with a deal. And damn it, I was right. I knew I could count on _YOU_. I knew you'd want to protect the once who „ _saved_ " you. - And here we are. _AGAIN_."

„Fuck you.", Sam hissed, forcing his head up to give her a glare.

She chuckled. „Nah. - Watch your language." She sighed. „So … i guess it's time to end the wild goose hunt, huh? Right here and now. - It was fun playing as long as it lasted." With that she drew the blade over Sam's forearm until it drew blood, covering the tip of the atame with it again.

Sam saw the determination in her bright grey-blue eyes, as the atame gleamed up.

A split second later Sam noticed fast a movement to his right. And another split second later Abaddon got thrown off his stomach, rolling with her attacker down beside him.

Sam sensed his chance, as the weight on his body was gone all of a sudden and he was free. His head snapped towards his left, where he saw red hair and short spiked hair. A leather jacket. _Dean's leather jacket_. Heavy boots. Two seemingly boneless bodies. Abaddon buried under HIS HUNTER.

Sam stared for a moment at him, wide-eyed and shocked. His breath caught in his chest and he choked out a silent „ _Dean_ ".

Sam hurried up to his knees, squatting beside the two bodies, as the demon's eyes snapped open. Gleaming hatefully at him, and with a grunt she freed herself from the deadweight on her, rolling the body off.

Sam's eyes widened even further as he saw the atame buried in Dean's chest, blood oozing in high speed from the wound, soaking thru two layers of shirts rapidly. He let out a choked breath, hurling at the hunter's side. Completely ignoring the black-eyed monster. Everything was gone. The warehouse, the trap, all his surroundings went blurry. There was just him and Dean and _scarlet_. Sam gathered him in his arms, pulling him close.

„ _No_ , Dean. - _No_ ...", he muttered, tears stinging in his eyes as he watched wide emerald-green orbs fading. „Please don't."

„It's okay, _Sammy_.", the hunter choked out. Eyes trying to focus on the man above him.

„No … it's not … _Oh god oh god oh god_.", Sam whispered gently and placed a soft kiss on the hunter's forehead. „I'm gonna make it alright again."

Sam sobbed, slipping with his free hand under the hunter's hem, seeking for Dean's skin to do what he had to. He closed his eyes, trying to force his abilities to work. But _nothing_ happened. Instead of starting to make him whole again, there was Abaddon. Laughing and giggling. And in the very next moment the outer circle – of what should've been a trap - flamed up.

„Too late, kid.", she cried out hysterically. „Shouldn't have called for me in the first place!"

„I failed.", he whispered, his gaze locked with Dean's. „I'm so sorry … _so sorry_."

Dean's eyelids got heavy, his vision blurry. He felt life leaving him. He felt Sam. Saw him. Focused on him. Trying to stay as long as possible since they _failed together_. And now they'd _die together_. The hunter blinked a tear away, ignoring the searing pain in his chest. „ _It's okay._ ", he breathed, slowly reaching for the hand on his stomach. „It's gonna to be okay."

Tears ran down Sam's cheeks, wetting his tender lips. „ _Please_ don't. - Stay with me. Stay with me ...", he prayed like a never-ending mantra. „ _Don't go where i can't find you ..._ "

Dean's lips curled up into a gentle smile. There was no fear, no panic, just pure peace all over the hunter's face. „I won't ...", he breathed weakly, „promise me … something ..."

Sam's breath hiccupped and he nodded with a sniff.

„Don't follow … me … don't try … to safe … me." The hunter's breaths became shallow and his eye-lids heavier. „ **Promise me** … _Sunshine_ , please. - Don't stay."

Sam shook his head in shock and now on full panic-mode. How could he just ask for THAT?

„You've 'o run." Dean sucked in a shallow breath, concentrating of what he needed to tell him. „Run and don' look back."

The sigils of the key started to glow, the concrete beneath them felt like it was heating up, and then a giant white fountain of mist broke thru the ground on the inner circle of the trap. Surrounding the loving pair. Sam bowed himself over Dean in a protective gesture, trying to keep the white smoke away from the one person he loved the most.

* * *

And then … the storm was over.

Sam still kneeled on the floor, with Dean wrapped up in his long arms, shielding him from whatever dread there would be.

Abaddon stood outside of the outer ring, inhaling deeply and closing her eyes. The smell of rotten eggs and death laid heavy in the air, as Sam's eyes fluttered open and his attention wandered immediately to the hunter in his arms.

„ _Dean_.", he croaked out and coughed, his hands searching the older man's neck for a pulse.

And THANK GOD there was one. Weak and unsteady but it was there.

 _Oh god_ , he felt helpless. He should've known. Should've kept his eyes open. He had never been save. Never. He should've known that Abaddon would find a way to get to him. Get to the hunters.

Dean's eyes were closed, his lips were slightly parted. And then the younger man's gaze fell on the atame and the wound. It had stopped to bleed. _It had stopped to bleed._

Sam gulped.

Dean's back arched up in his arms and he sucked in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the filthy smell of hell. The hunter's eyes snapped open and instead of bright green orbs, they were black. Black and … what seemed like slender strands of gleaming lava, flowing thru the deepest night.

Sam gasped, as the eyes darted at him and they focused. And there was this smile on the hunter's lips. _Evil_ … and somehow _soft_.

Dean – or whoever he was now – sat up and yanked the atame free with a hiss of pain, while Sam sat back on his heels. Terror written all over his face.

„What a mess.", it said with a sorrow-filled sigh. It even had the hunter's voice.

It glanced at Sam with a cool expression and sniffed. Brushed over the clothes and coughed a little. Then it looked around with cocked eyebrows, before his look fell back on Sam, who stared at it fearfully. Then it looked over at Abaddon who smiled at him reassuring.

„Welcome back, Baby.", she literally purred, as she stepped closer.

„Abaddon?", he asked in disbelieve. Then he looked back at the soultaker on the floor. „And who's this?"

She nodded and her smile widened. „Your meatsuits lover."

Sam swallowed a sob as he tried not to show the growing fear inside him. - _Oh god, what had he let happen?_

Dean grunted and shook his head. „What a mess.", he said again as he looked around thoughtfully. „Everything ready?", he asked as his head snapped towards Abaddon and stared at her in a cold manner.

She nodded again. „Everything's prepared for your arrival."

He nodded again, locking his gaze with the demon and put on a filthy smile. „You found me someone nice this time, honey.", he said huskily, turning the atame in his hand and clenching its hilt tightly.

She pursed her lips and nodded, her look teasingly roaming over the hunter's body. „Yeah ...", she tilted her head to the side. „Thought you may like this one."

 _What a lie_ , and he knew it. _He was meant to be in the soultakers body …_

As he stood before her, he leaned forward, taking her mouth in his, pulling her close with the hand on her back, and in the very next moment he buried the blade in his hands in Abaddon's stomach. Completely stuttered with a hint of panic, she stared up into her partner's eyes. Blinking.

Dean let go of the atame, so he did with Abaddon and she dropped to the floor. He stared at her for a long while, until the demon lost her fight with death himself. Ever so slowly he turned around and glanced at Sam, who stared at the demon on the floor and then up at Dean, scooting back a couple of inches as he dared to come closer.

„What a mess.", the demon repeated as he narrowed further – ever so slowly. His voice was a low purr. „Don't you think?"

Sam swallowed hard, tried to keep his erratic heartbeat down. Panic wouldn't help him now. Though he kept eye-contact with _him_. His mind racing, weighting his possibilities.

Dean squatted down before Sam and pursed his lips, then he rubbed over his face, eying the younger man again. „What am i supposed to do with you?", he asked and cocked an eyebrow.

Sam sniffed. „Kill me.", he answered calmly. Big hazel-eyes looking up at the demon pleadingly. „ _End me_." There was nothing what Sam would've wanted more.

Now _he_ cocked both eyebrows. „ _Ending you_?", he asked – obviously kind of irritated. „Look at me and tell me what you see, kiddo."

Sam sniffed and tried to concentrate. Tried to look thru the haze of loss and grief and into the souls hidden inside the host. Even when he only managed a short glance at it, he could tell that there was beside this never-ending darkness a bright spark of light.

He looked up at the demon in disbelieve. „Dean?", he asked broken.

The demon smiled at him. „I can't hold him back very long, Sunshine.", he blinked a single tear away. „He won't touch you – nor the others. - Let him walk out of here. Don't try anything stupid. _Not right now_. I just wished this … this could've last forever, Sammy.", tears ran down Dean's face as he stood up again, offering Sam a helping hand. „Let me help you up. - _Please_?"

The young man reached for him, never letting go of the demon-like darkness in Dean's eyes. „ _I'm sorry, Dean._ ", he said again, fresh tears filling his eyes.

„It's okay.", Dean brushed gently over the younger man's cheek, who leaned instantly into the touch. „Don't you worry about me." He placed a lingering kiss on Sam's forehead.

Then they broke apart and the hunter's smile morphed into a hard expression, his eyes went dead and without another word, Dean turned around and walked away … Just like that …

_That was, when Sam's heart shattered and his mind broke._

* * *

Sam didn't remember if it had been minutes or hours or days. He kneeled there, unable to move, nor to talk. His expression blanc and unreadable.

Then … after a very long time he blinked his tears away and sniffed. Brushed with the sleeve of his shirt over his nose and eyes and looked up. His gaze went over to Bobby, then to Caleb and Ellen.

… _not right now_ … he reminded himself of Dean's words.

And with this he rose from the cold concrete, swaying and dizzy. First he made his way towards Bobby, and kneeled down beside him, letting his fingers travel over the old man's forehead, causing a moan from the bearded man.

Sam went over to Ellen and Caleb and squatted down beside them, laying one hand on Ellen's forehead and one on Caleb's lower arm. Both of them were covered in blood and barely alive. Though there was still a spark of hope buried inside them. So Sam did it. He had to. He owned them that much – at least.

Seconds later, Sam dropped down beside them onto the cold surface.

_This was the day Sam died._

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** The Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 30 ~ The End Is Near **

… _... two weeks later_

He laid on the silken sheets, covered by a thick blanket. His skin looked translucent on the black bedding and his eyes empty, like no one was home right now. The young man laid on the hunter's half of the bed, hadn't left it since that one night. He refused to eat ever since he had woken up. He refused to talk and taking care of himself.

_He had given up._

They shouldn't have gone into the warehouse. They shouldn't have tried to fight an unbeatable foe. Who had he been kidding? He had destroyed everything. He had damaged the hunter and his friends, had disappointed everyone unutterably.

_And he had lost Dean._

… **not right now** … the hunter's words made his head spin, still not able to put them into the right context.

He was dead inside and he just needed to wait until his body would understand and follow his mind's lead.

* * *

… _one month later_

He was on his feet again, after Ellen had pulled him into the bathroom one night, ordering him to take a shower and putting on fresh clothes.

Because Sam didn't care – _not anymore._ He didn't even look at Dean's friends. He just wanted to be left alone, wanted to die, wanted to give up.

The huntress had literally shoved him into the bathroom, had undressed him and had put him under the warm water-spray. Ellen had shampooed the younger man's hair and rinsed it, then – after he was dressed - she brought him downstairs into the kitchen. It was like all life had left him. Like he was a doll …

It had been in the middle of the night, so there hadn't been anyone who could've been interrupting them. That was why the huntress had waited until it was quiet past midnight to get thru with HER PLAN. She had to get the kid back on his feet. Had to give him something to rely on. Had to show him that there was still something to keep on walking, even when it hurt so bad that he thought that death was the only solace left for him.

It's been about four weeks now, since Dean was taken by the knight as his host. Four weeks of grief and despair. Four weeks of „ _what if's_ ".

The huntress sat a plate with chopped fruits in front of the younger man, who stared into his lap. Then she sat down on the opposite side of the table and looked at him for a long while.

„You've to keep your strength, Sam.", she said quietly. „ _THIS_ is the last thing Dean would've wanted."

Sam flinched at the mentioning of the hunter's name and sniffed.

She eyed him again – for a long time. „If you wanna help him, hon, you gotta take care of yourself."

How in hell was he able to help Dean? He, who had caused this mess in the first place … _not right now,_ he heard the hunter's voice in his mind telling him again.

„I brought him into this, Ellen." Sam's voice barely hearable in the silence of the night. Then he looked up, meeting the woman's look. His hazel-green eyes filled with sadness, grief and endless sorrow. „And I don't know how to make it undone …."

Ellen forced a smile on her lips. „That's because you can't make it undone." She kept her voice soft and reassuring, taking care that she didn't use wrong words for what she wanted to let him know.

The woman's words burned deep inside the younger man's chest, leaving a bitter pain behind.

„ _WE_ can't make it undone. - But what _we_ can do is to find a way and get him out of Dean." Ellen leaned back, never breaking the contact with Sam's eyes. „Don't think that we take it as a given that Dean's gone. - We want to have him back too."

Sam's eyes filled with tears, and he tore his gaze from the huntress with a sniff, rubbing with the sleeve of his fresh shirt over his face to gather all the tears.

„But we can't do it without you, you understand? - What when we get Dean back and you're gone? What do you think will it do to him, Sam?" Ellen sighed and frowned. Inwardly she hoped to push the right buttons there and didn't make him draw back into himself anymore. At least he was talking to her … „Huh? - What do you think how he'd feel when you're gone?"

Sam shrugged. „I'm the one who got him into that situation in the first place." He sniffed again.

Ellen shook her head and huffed in dismay. „Kid. - Trust me, when I tell ya' that Dean wouldn't want it the other way 'round." She rolled her eyes. „Now eat.", she ordered and tugged the plate further towards him. „And tomorrow we're gonna talk about what we're going to do next."

Sam sniffed and lowered his gaze at the plate. Hesitantly he took a slice of something that looked like a mango. Then he looked up at Ellen. „Thanks ..."

* * *

… _. same day, 5:30 am, Singer's Salvage, Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

There was this spark in his eyes. Something that had ever stuck within him. Something he had lost a long ago thru torture and abuse. Something that made its way slowly to the surface again.

Sam haven't gotten back to sleep after he had left Ellen in the kitchen. _No_. He had went for Dean's duffel-bag. Had laid it's contents out on the bed. Had gotten fresh dressed in a pair of jeans, shirts and sneakers. Had shaved without daring to look into the mirror. Had put the things back into the duffel (except the keys of the Impala) and had left the house without a word to anyone of the hunters.

* * *

It was close to nine pm when the familiar roar of the Impala's heart was heard on the yard again. The car didn't hold in front of Bobby's house. No. It passed the house and went streight for the barn.

Bobby, Ellen and Caleb had been sick of worry. They had thought he had taken off – for good. Bobby was the first one to get outside on the porch in his wheelchair, followed by Ellen.

„What the hell?", he asked, and looked up at the huntress beside him.

Ellen's lips formed into a thin line. „Stay here, I'll check it out.", she said silently.

So she followed the red tail lights towards the barn, just to see a tall man emerge from the driver's seat. For a moment she stopped, but started to narrow again, as the figure went around the car to the other side of the backseat and opened the door there. It was too dark to see what he pulled out of the car, but it was big and it struggled. He pulled it up and Ellen was able to make out a human-like figured shape.

Her frown deepened, as she got closer and the both vanished behind the door of the barn. As soon as she had caught up, she hesitated to open the door. Kind of afraid what she might find there. All she heard were grunts and groans and whimpers. And as she tried to push the handle down, she found the door locked.

No, Sam didn't want to be interrupted.

He pushed the figure forward, into the middle of the room. „Stay.", he ordered, shooting a dangerous glance at the man's pitch-black eyes.

* * *

The tall man finished the simple drawing of a devil's trap on the wooden floor and smiled satisfied to himself. He guided the fingers of his right hand on his jaw and bit down on his lower split lip, as he brushed over the dark bruise there. Sam eyed the man in the middle of the trap cautiously. He was nearly as tall as Sam, but definitely better fed. He also looked stronger and way more trained. At least the demon's host did so. He knew they never chose weak ones.

Sam sniffed and cocked both of his eyebrows in surprise, as the thing fought against its iron bindings.

This would be his way to get Dean back. This would be the only way it'd work. He had to train himself, had to get stronger. Had to become a _predator_ himself.

„What do you know about the knight?", Sam asked low. His voice seemed so different from what Ellen was used to. Dangerous and sharp, letting no doubt that he'd hurt the man if he wouldn't talk.

„Go and fuck yourself.", the demon hissed as his eyes flashed black once again.

With that, Sam extended his hand towards him and closed his fingers into a fist, forcing gagging and wheezing sounds from the demon. „What do you know about the knight?", Sam asked again, his hazel-green circles gleaming dangerously in the pale light from the bulb above them.

The demon hissed and shook his head with a manic laughter. „That he's gonna kick your ass."

Again. Sam eased his fist and closed it again. „Fine.", he said with a jingly cold sound in the word, making the demon cry out all over again.

* * *

It was the very next morning. Neither of the hunters had shut an eye yet. Not since they knew Sam holed up in the barn with a captured demon. Not since they were discussing since about midnight if one of them should go outside and look after for him.

It was close to seven in the morning, when the front-door creaked open and a completely pale and exhausted soultaker stumbled forward into the hall and collapsed on the carpet. His breaths came shallow and weak, his eyes half-open, trying to focus.

The damn demon had known nothing. _Nothing_.

This night in the barn had just been the beginning. He wouldn't stop. Not until he was strong enough to rip the knight out of Dean. Not before the hunter was free again.

_No matter what it might take._

* * *

_three weeks later …. Singer's Salvage, Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

One week ago, Sam had taken off with the Impala, leaving everything behind. Ellen had tried to talk him into staying, but the young man refused her offers. Refused to stay. Refused to look into the hunter's faces all the damn time, when he was in the house. He just couldn't. Because he knew, that he was the reason that things were like they were right now. _He knew it_. And even if the others didn't want to see it, he had to get Dean out there on his own.

There was no way in getting his hunter's friends in danger ever again. Not like this. Not ever. It was his fault, that Dean was gone. His fault, that Robert Singer was bound to a wheelchair these days, and his fault, that Caleb still had to recover.

Sam hadn't been able to heal them completely. He had been too weak.

So he had taken off. Had made his way streight into the middle of nowhere into a no-name-city and holed up in an abandoned house on its outskirts. He had warded it like Dean had shown him, even when he didn't care – at least not that much. Sam felt like he didn't deserve to be safe. Didn't deserve to _feel_ safe.

* * *

The basement of the abandoned house was empty and looked clean. On the concrete in the middle of the room was a devil's trap, the colour partially still wet. Sam had gotten red paint, obviously the wrong one.

So he sucked it up, he couldn't wait. He had no time left. Would he had gotten his head out of his ass earlier, Dean wouldn't have to be damned to spend that much time as a prisoner in his own body and mind.

Sam got torn from his thoughts, as the chains rattled and the woman in the middle of the trap shifted to her knees. She wore a collar and shackles around her wrists and ankles. Engraved with binding-symbols he had found in one of Bobby's old books. Her long dark hair hung over her shoulders and face, hiding red eyes like blazing charcoals.

Sam had picked her up at the crossroads, a couple of miles away from the house. It hadn't been difficult to capture her, she had no clue what was happening, until he first used his abilities on her. Forcing her on her knees and fastened the iron bindings on her.

Now they were here and Sam was determined. Crossroads-demons were way powerful as the low-rank-demons he had before. It would be heavier to get her out of her host without ripping the human soul out of the body too, but Sam was willing to try, and if not … there was a damn big yard behind the house.

Sam pulled the zipper of his black leather-jacket down, while he watched the possessed girl in the middle of the room. Then he slipped out of it, exposing a well-built torso and arms, covered by plaid fabric and an undershirt. He threw the jacket over a chair close to the outer circle and walked around it.

Sam knew he didn't need the traps anymore. He was well able to hold the monster inside the room all by himself. Though it had become a habit to do so. Maybe because it reminded him of Dean.

This wasn't about vengeance, not about pay-back. This was about training. If he wanted to be able to deal with the knight without hurting Dean, he had to practice. And there he was, with the crossroads-demon. All by himself. Trying to make it up again.

She glanced up at him, as he made his second round. „You're the one who hunts us, aren't you?", she asked, her voice trembling.

Sam didn't answer. He wasn't talking to demons anymore. He had stopped talking to them, when he realized that none of them would give anything away about the knight.

Though everyone had felt the changes, the imbalance between good and evil ever since the knight walked the earth. There were way more demons among humanity now. Way more possessions and murders thru these. And ineffably more pain and hurt and grief.

„They're talking about you.", she continued. „Soultaker.", she hissed, her face morphed into a disgusted grimace.

Sam's face remained unimpressed. He had heard a lot of things lately. His captives had told him the blue from the sky just to get away. But Sam didn't care. Demons lie. They always did.

The young man stopped in his tracks and took a deep inhale, staring at the woman for a while, before he clenched and unclenched his left hand like he was about to warm up. Sam's eyes were cold and numb. He didn't care about what others said – he had to remind himself about that. Over and over again.

„I can get you informations about the knight. - Where he is, what his plans are. I know you're looking for him. There are rumours, kid … Rumours i couldn't overhear." She was nearly begging.

And Sam reminded himself, that she possessed the girl. That there was still live inside the body. So now, there were no deals. This was about training and saving the girl.

He faced her, a determined expression on his face, as he tilted his head to the side. „I'm just wondering how there could possibly be rumours, since none of the demons i captured got away." And with this he balled his hand into a tight fist and the demon let out an agonized cry.

* * *

_An abandoned church, Rock Springs, Wyoming …_

The whole city was oddly silent. It literally had happened over night. No one had been able to get away. It was the ground zero of evil. To outsiders, the town didn't seem different at all. There were (possessed) children playing in the streets, (possessed) people mowing their lawn, (possessed) women made their runs for food and other stuff.

No, outsiders wouldn't have been able to notice what was going on.

Pitch-black eyes with slender strands of liquid lava stared at the map on the desk before him. Rock Springs was his. _His alone_. He'd enslave humanity, making it his. _His alone._

He leaned back and brushed over his scruff thoughtfully, his eyes still glued to the map. Demon-possessions were still rare. There weren't enough of them among the human's population to take over yet. And there were still too many hunters out there. Abaddon had done a good job so far, of course. But he knew, that she'd try and claim the throne as hers sooner or later. So yeah, the hunter's act of killing her hadn't been that bad in the end at all.

What bothered him was, that he had let go the soultaker. Though, he had promised the hunter to leave him be, as some kind of gift. Yeah, he wasn't completely a hell-bound bastard. He had offered the hunter something, the hunter had said he'd wish to see the soultaker and his friends alive, and so he had just walked away from the warehouse.

Sometimes the knight was able to sense glimpses of Dean's memories, had flashes of feelings. The hunter was able to shield the rest from him to this day. And to be honest, the knight wasn't interested in them anyway. He had other things he had to take care about as the hunter's presence.

One day the hunter would be gone. As soon as he realized that there was no matter if he'd stay or give up and die. That there was no reason to fight. Because this body was now the knight's one and he wouldn't leave it.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 31 ~ Seeking Salvation **

… _.. five months later_

The Roadhouse remained as one of the last sanctuaries for hunters and it was full of them tonight. Ellen was on edge ever since Sam had left the Salvage on his own. She knew that the kid was going thru a lot and that he blamed himself for what had happened. But she also knew, that it wasn't true. They were grown up people and everyone of them had made the choice of joining Dean and Sam. No one of them could've possibly known that there was a demon among them. That their plan was meant to fail.

Bobby had said it had gotten to him, when he had been with Ellen at the roadhouse, as he went outside to get a carton with whiskey for the bar. It was when he emerged from the storage that he felt a violent hit in the back and a stabbing pain that spread all over his spine. Ever since that moment he could only remember darkness until the point, where he woke up groaning in the warehouse.

Bobby had given him a phone, so that they were able to keep contact. He had also called Sam a couple of times and they also had some talks about irrelevant stuff. So did Ellen.

* * *

The door into the Roadhouse opened, and like always these days, there were immediately dozens of eyes at the new arrival. Ellen couldn't blame the hunters who came into the bar. The times had changed, since the knight walked the earth. Hunters were more aware of unknown hunters these days, after about a half of the places like the Roadhouse had been burnt down to their grounds.

Today someone entered, from whom they had just heard rumours so far. A new _demon-hunter_. Since a couple of months everyone was talking about a guy who took out demons – one after another – without taking a break. The rumour also said, that it had to do something with the vanishing of John Winchester's boy.

Dark hazel-eyes searched the crowded room. His face was the one of a predator, all-time ready to break loose when he came along his prey. His look remained dangerous and cool, while he went further into the room and thru the crowd. He wore tight jeans, heavy boots and a black leather-jacket that fit like a second skin. There was a holster on his left leg, in it one of Dean's Barettas. His jaw clenched, when he spotted Ellen behind the bar, talking to one of the guys there.

He went for it and sat down on the last empty bar-stool, laying Dean's demon-killing-knife in front of him. The days were gone when he had been hiding. Not since he knew what he was capable of, and wasn't afraid of using every single one of his abilities against whoever got into his way. It wasn't like he was a killing-machine. Surely not. But when it was about life and death he knew what to do. And for whom he was supposed to do it.

He still had to make it up to Dean. Had to get the knight out of him. And that was the reason why he was here. Sam needed Ash. After the last hunt, his phone broke and he needed to get a new one. - One with special functions. Because it hadn't passed a day, where Sam haven't tracked down his hunter over the tracking device in his hand. Not at least a month where he hadn't „ _checked_ " on him, so that he could at least steal glimpses at him and check if he was still in there.

Sam was also able to tell that Dean's essence got weaker. They couldn't wait any longer. They had to do it before it was too late. And as he had promised five months ago, he'd come for them and let them know.

Ellen turned around, who hadn't even noticed who the newest arrival was and her face broke into a bright smile. „Sam!", she called out and a moment later she stood before him.

He got up and bowed over the bar, letting himself being pulled into a tight hug from the huntress. Her smile fell again, as they parted and noticed Sam's expression. „It's time?", she asked frowning.

Sam nodded. „Besides: I'd need this here prepared.", he laid a phone on the counter. „Mine's dead."

Ellen sighed and pressed her lips into a thin line before she nodded to herself and turned around, picking a bottle of milk from the fridge and poured it into one of the beer-glasses, before she placed it in front of Sam.

The hunters around the bar stared, first at the glass and then at the man who obviously must've ordered it, curiously.

He gave her a small smile and bowed forward and looked at her intensively. She followed his example, until their cheeks brushed. „You've a demon problem in here.", Sam whispered calmly.

She drew back and stared at him with wide eyes, her mouth agape, while Sam sat back on the bar stool, a saucy grin forming on his face.

„Is it okay when I take care of it?", Sam spoke out loud and took a gulp from the milk.

Ellen nodded. „Who?", she mouthed, not looking away from Sam.

Sam sniffed and rubbed his nose. „Nine days ago I got hold of a wendigo in the Rockies.", he said quietly and took another swig from the milk.

She looked at him confused, not really understanding what he wanted to tell her with it. Obviously it got something to do with her question …

Sam rolled with his eyes and sighed deeply. „Nine o'clock, dirty lumberjack."

She formed a perfect „o" with her mouth and rolled with her eyes. Obviously Dean hadn't tought him their code words correctly. Or Sam hadn't memorized them the right way.

The hunter beside him turned around on his stool and eyed the lumberjack and then Sam intensively. „Jeremy Wrengler.", the man said. „What'd you want from him, boy?"

Sam glared at him. „Mind your own business if you know what's good for you."

Ellen rose an eyebrow about Sam's behaviour. And then shook her head as the man looked at her, anger flaring up in his eyes.

„No I won't. - I know him longer as you've been a spark in the eye of your father, son." He sat up right on his stool, straightening himself up so that he looked taller.

Sam's hand wandered over the hilt of the taurus before him. „The man's possessed and he's here to burnt he Roadhouse down, Sir." So calm and reasoned, if he just told him how late it was.

The man's eyes widened for a moment and he glanced at the lumberjack-guy who sat at the table about two yards away from the bar, stripping one of his handguns to get it cleaned up. Jeremy Wrengler looked up briefly and met the man's confused facial expression, before he went back to polishing.

„Fine. - Now he knows that you know ..." Sam sighed and rolled his eyes.

„How'd you know?" He tore his gaze away from the hunter and at the young man beside him.

„He just knows.", Ellen answered for him and glared at the hunter. „And he's here to get rid of him, aren't you, Sam?" Her voice was filled with hope. Hope that this here didn't go south somehow.

Sam nodded and shared a look with Ellen and then with the man beside him.

„Just stay put. - I'll get you your friend back." He sniffed and yawned.

„How?", the man asked shooting another glance at the man at the table – again their looks met.

„Now that he knows, that you know, and maybe figures, that you just told me and Ellen that you think something's up with him … I guess he won't go outside with me anymore anyway." Sam took another swig from the glass. „Now I've to expel the demon in front of about two dozens of hunters, who probably'd love to shoot me afterwards."

The man's confused look became anxious. „HOW do you think you can possibly expel the demon from Jeremy?" The hunter's voice rose uncomfortably loud and a couple of men looked in their direction, so did the possessed lumberjack-guy. „Without hurting him?"

„Like this." Sam slid from the bar stool while he turned away from the bar, leaving his taurus there beside the glass of milk.

Just seconds later the possessed lumberjack-guy jumped up from his seat, his now clean hand-gun directed at Sam.

Frightened gasps and intakes were heard and Sam froze for a moment, before he turned his head, looking with predator-like dilated eyes at his prey.

„Don't you dare and move, kid.", the man said, his eyes flashing black for a split second.

Those who had recognized the fast change in the hunter's eyes, backed away slowly, others laid their hands on their weapons, ready to draw them.

The possessed man looked around sheepishly. „Honestly? - How many of you idiots think that you can shoot me with regular bullets?" It chuckled wickedly. „Now let me do my job and it's going to be over soon."

Sam turned slowly around on his heels, never letting the man out under his watch, until he was completely face to face with him and the man's gun. Then Jeremy Wrengler shrugged and let the gun drop to the floor, showing his left hand, wich was firstly glowing reddish and within a couple of moments flames were emerging from the boiling skin. Long ugly claws formed and grew out of his finger-tips and some kind of liquid started to drop from it, that seemed to catch fire all by itself.

Someone behind Sam thought he could draw his gun. But no such luck. The bastard was faster and snapped the hunter's neck with a single movement of his hand.

„Anyone else?", he asked with a devilish grin on his face.

Sam took a step forward, eying the demon closely. Then, as it was going to touch the counter, the young man closed his hand into a loose fist, and the hunter's eyes flashed black. It gasped and fell to his knees. This wasn't a demon Sam had seen before, but sure as hell he was beyond a damn crossroads demon in the ranking. So yeah, this would be easy.

He heard guns loading behind him and safeties being removed. Sam looked over his shoulder and let his eyes flash black – just long enough so the hunters knew that he was at least as dangerous as the lumberjack-guy in front of him.

„Don't!", he heard Ellen call. „He's just here to help.", she continued.

The hunters looked at her for a brief moment, then back at Sam and the monster, that was now on its knees. Sam closed his eyes to focus on the task before him. Removing the demon from its host without hurting the human's soul.

And a moment later, Sam's eyes flashed open, and the lumberjack-man crumbled to the floor boneless. Sam took a couple of deep inhales and watched as Ellen and a bunch of others hurried towards the man on the floor.

„Might as well take him to a hospital. - From the way he looks like he was possessed for a while.", Sam said and sat back on his bar-stool beside the man, who hadn't left his place. Most eyes were recently on him, obviously studying him and weighting their options. Sam gulped down the rest of his milk and grabbed the demon-killing-knife in front of him.

„Meeting up at Bobby's?", Sam asked Ellen loudly, who was busy to call 911. She just nodded and shot the young man a glance, focused on explaining to them that it was a demon possession after an exorcism and that the victim needed help – fast. Leaving the little Sammy-action aside.

Sam nodded back and slid from the stool, putting the knife between waistband and belt again and went towards the exit, as two of the bigger guys got in his way.

„Ellen?!", he called out over his shoulder, his voice low and calm. He honestly didn't expect any threat from them. And if they were stupid enough to tease him, they'd pay the price anyway.

He heard a frustrated grunt and a slight grin formed on her lips.

„Damn it, guys! Let him pass!", she yelled – definitely not amused about what just had happened in HER Roadhouse. „He's gonna take the both of you down by just snapping his fingers!"

With that the men gave the way free and Sam left, the keys of Dean's Baby in his hands.

* * *

Two hours later he was at Bobby's. Greeting the old man with a short bearhug. So he did with Caleb. Then they went into the living-room, sitting together with a mug of coffee.

Bobby eyed Sam curiously and shifted a bit in his wheelchair. Then he cleared his throat and his eyebrows furrowed. „So … you look great, kid. - All flesh and muscles …", his voice trailed off.

Sam nodded. „Protein and training.", he answered with a cheeky grin.

_Silence._

„So ….", started Caleb hesitantly. „It's happening?"

Sam nodded and looked to the ground between his feet. „I'll get him back." He looked up with a sad smile.

Concern spread over the former hunter's face. „You're going alone, kid?", he asked then.

Sam nodded.

„And you think you're ready for it?", he got on asking.

Sam huffed and a knowing grin formed on his lips. „I have to. - No matter if I'm ready or not. His time's running out. - I saw him last week. And he's getting weaker." His features became serious. „That's why I'm here. - I'm gonna need your help maybe."

They nodded understanding and decided to wait for Ellen until they'd listen to what Sam had to say.

* * *

Ellen blew out a frustrated huff. „You can't be serious, hon.", she demanded and shook her head, a sad expression in her eyes. „He's a knight, not some cross-roads-demon you're gonna pick up somewhere ..." She looked up and met a determined stare from Sam. His expression remained calm and unmoved.

„So – you're in, or you're out?", Sam asked, cocking his eyebrows, as if he hadn't heard the huntress.

„No one of you both is going to walk out there alive, boy.", Bobby retorted. He rolled his eyes after the younger man just kept staring at them. „You know i won't say no to you or Dean. - Sure i'll call Amelia, let her set up everything she needs – just in case, since i can't do _anything else_ for you boys ..." As soon as he had spoken he regretted the last couple of words and bit his tongue.

A hurt expression crossed Sam's face. „I know. - And it's my fault.", he muttered to himself, staring at the contents in his mug and then at the wheelchair. „That's why I'm gonna do it all by myself. - I need you to be there for Dean. - Getting him somewhere safe if I'm not able to do it … " _… it's all about Dean._ Saving him, bringing him somewhere safe to heal and recover from the possession. If that would even be possible.

Caleb scratched the back of his neck and sighed. „Sure I'm in, lad. You don't have to ask twice." He eyed Sam closely. „Thing is … what about you? We get Dean out of there and then? We can't leave you there with a horde of demons that wanna take revenge on you …."

Sam put on a reassuring smile. „I'll handle it. - Important thing is, that Dean gets to the hospital in time."

Bobby leaned back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. „That's not going to get a kamikaze-trip, is it?"

Sam shook his head and sniffed. He knew that after he would've taken down the knight, he wouldn't be able to fight the others off. At least not all of them. So yeah … somehow it was some sort of kamikaze-trip. And what he had wasn't really a plan. It was more like sneaking in, taking the demon down (more or less), and holding the rest off until Dean was out of there. And to Sam it sounded like a damn good plan.

„It's not Bobby.", he lied without blushing.

The old man huffed and adjusted his ball cap. „Hope so. - Otherwise I'd have to kick your ass."

Sam chuckled and blinked up, pulling his phone from the front pocket of his jeans and eyed it. Then he brushed over the screen and touched it a couple of times, before he leaned back.

„He's currently in Norfolk, Nebraska.", Sam said and tore his gaze from the screen, hiding the suffering expression on his face with his longer chestnut-brown bangs. „Two and a half hour from here. - I know that he's going to stay there until tomorrow night."

He cleared his throat.

„Do I even wanna know how you got to that informations?" Bobby cocked both eyebrows.

Sam shook his head.

„Fine. - And when do you wanna head there?", Ellen asked.

„Tomorrow morning. - I want to check out the surroundings. - I got told that he holed up in a convent." Sam put his phone back into his pocket, feeling for the familiar bullet-shaped pendant that was connected to Baby's keys. „As soon as you got Dean. - Don't stay there. Don't take him in the hospital there. Get him to Madison. It's about twenty minutes southern from Norfolk and has a small hospital. Might as well it's going to be safer there."

The hunters nodded in union.

Sam took a deep inhale and petted his own knees before he raised from the couch. „Okay … so … I'll be here at eight.", he said with a sad smile and made an attempt to head towards the hall, as a strong grip on his lower arm held him back.

„Where do you think you're headin', boy?", a gruff voice barked at him.

He let his head hang and glanced down at Bobby. „Motel."

„Don't be stupid." Bobby turned around with the wheelchair and glared up at him. „You're sleepin' here with us."

The younger man shook his head and glued his look to the floor. „I don't think that it's a good idea." _… because he didn't deserve it._

„Don't be stupid. - Caleb made yours and Dean's room ready." Bobby let go of the younger man's arm and nodded towards the stairs.

Sam wanted to argue. But he was too tired, to spent and he needed to be up and alert in just a couple of hours again. So he'd stay, sleep in the same room he had spent his better times with the hunter he still loved so much that it hurt. Hurt that he wasn't there with him – _all because of the soultaker …_

* * *

When Sam entered the room, he immediately had the scent of gun-oil, metal and leather in his nose. Something so typically Dean Winchester. It tore at his heart and let it bleed. Because all of this was his fault. _All of it._

A single tear left the corner of Sam's left eye, as he crashed down on the side of the bed that was meant to be Dean's. He knew that they surely had washed the sheets before putting them back on … but he'd be damned, Sam could still smell the hunter's scent all over.

* * *

Bobby sighed and rolled back a little bit with the wheelchair. Ellen sat down on the couch, while Caleb made himself comfortable in the recliner with a thoughtful sigh.

The oldest among them shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. „He was never expecting to make it out there alive.", he muttered to himself.

Ellen leaned back and brushed with one hand over her mouth. Caleb huffed in disapproval.

„I guess we've to make up our own plan." Bobby said with a deep sigh. _…. because Dean would never forgive them if they wouldn't at least try._

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 32 ~ The Fire Within **

It was the very next morning, when Sam's alarm on the phone went off and tore him from one of his rare calm nights, where his dreams were comforting and sweet like nectar. It was seven in the morning and they'd get going in about an hour, what meant a short shower, no shaving and a _fast_ breakfast.

So it was.

They had breakfast together. Like during their good old times, when Dean had still been with them. When Dean had still been with HIM. There wasn't an hour where Sam wasn't thinking about him. Hell, there probably wasn't even a minute he didn't.

„So … how do you plan to get in there?", Bobby asked, as he had swallowed another fork full of scrambled eggs.

Sam looked up from his plate. Watching him eat reminded the old man of something mechanic like a machine or a robot. As if he was just eating to stay alive, instead of enjoying the food.

„Leave it to me. - All that's important is, that you guys get in as soon as I'll give you the _sign_." He smiled reassuring and shoved another fork with pancake-pieces into his mouth.

„What's gonna be the _sign_?", Caleb asked, his mouth full of bacon.

Sam swallowed the chewed mash and looked up at the youngest among the hunters. „You'll know when you see.", he just answered with a cocky grin.

Ellen leaned back with a sigh, taking another swig from her coffee. „Okay, we've the ambulance, Amelia knows that she's needed and said she'll be here with her equipment in an hour or two." She took another gulp, watching Sam closely. How was it even possible to change that drastically in behaviour as Sam had done?

„All you guys have to worry about is to get in and get Dean out and head to Madison. - I'll handle the rest." He put his fork down and leaned back with the mug in his hand. „Whatever you might see, don't hesitate, don't look back. I'll be okay."

„Kinda sounds half-cocked to me ...", Bobby mentioned and adjusted his ball cap.

But Sam just smiled at him like he was damn sure that everything was going to be okay and that he'd handle everything that might come up. „I got this, Bobby. Trust me."

The old man sighed deeply and shook his head. „I do hope so."

* * *

Three hours later they arrived at their destination in Norfolk, Nebraska. The convent was in the middle of the damn town. Traffic and people all around. On the bright side: They wouldn't have to hide as usual. The demons wouldn't even register the hunters in the coffee shop on the other side of the road, who watched the nuns coming and leaving from their cosy place near the giant window.

Sam had taken up his station on the roof of the building, counting the possessed sisters and brothers coming and leaving for his while being. And damn it, they seemed to be a lot. At least twenty-five possessed nuns and a hand-full of brothers and he was still counting. Not to mention the once that were hidden inside.

It started to get hot after about two more hours on the roof of the coffee shop and Sam decided that it was enough. In the end it didn't really matter how many there were inside. He had his plan anyways and to be honest, since he had tried to figure out another way to get Dean out without giving himself up, he ended up frustrated and angry. So he skipped the thought of going out there alive.

The knight never left the buildings, except when he was going to settle down somewhere else for a while. And even then he was surrounded by a bunch of demons.

Because this way or another, there was no way he'd change things. Things that would never be the same ever again. He had to do it today – before it was too late. He had probably waited too long to do this. If things were really bad, there would've been nothing left but a drooling meatsuit with a high alert hunter inside.

Though, Sam had decided, that everything was better than being the puppet of a black-eyed monster. Besides: Dean deserved better than this.

So he had changed his plan in simply: Getting the knight out of Dean and saving the hunter's life, without taking care of himself.

Further he knew he wouldn't be able to tear the hell-bound being out of Dean just like that. He had to be smart about it. Had to save up his powers for the right moment.

Sam used the fire-ladder on the back of the building to get back down. Then he drew his phone and dialed Ellen's number, telling her how many demons he had counted so far and that he'd go in there in about an hour. And no matter what might happened, they had to stay outside the convent until he gave them a clear sign.

* * *

Caleb shifted in the plastic chair and took a sip of his Latte Machiatto with hazelnut-sirup. It was about his fifth coffee since they were there and his bladder called for release. „Where do WE go from here?"

„You'll call Bobby and I'll call Amelia and the Madison's Hospital. - Guess we need to get ready ...", she answered and emptied her frozen cappuccino, before she rose. She glared at Caleb. „And go to the damn restroom some time before." The huntress shot him a glance.

* * *

_One hour later …..._

It was close to four p.m. as Sam rounded the corner towards the back of the convent. He had a plan how he'd know where the knight was. A dangerous one and maybe it'd go south, but holy hell. He figured it was his best chance without causing too much attention and giving away his intentions.

And so Sam wasn't surprised that there appeared two black-eyed men on the other end of the alley and two nuns behind him. The young man tried and look as surprised as possible, as he swirled around to face the black-eyed women that were now emerging from the shadows.

„You shouldn't have come here.", one of the nuns said and cocked both eyebrows while she grinned scornfully.

„The knight knew you'll come, foolish boy. - Better you would've stood away from here.", one of the man continued, while they came closer.

But Sam stayed relaxed right where he was. Either did he show any signs of distress. „Well then … what are you waiting for? Why don't you bring me to him?"

„Who sayd he wants to see you?", the non asked back.

„I know he does.", Sam answered self-conscious and grinned. „Otherwise you would've tried to kill me yet."

The two men stopped about two yards in front of him. So did the nuns behind Sam. They shared short glances, then the non spoke up again. „Fine. - I guess now that we know what all our places are, we can get on with our business. It's not like we're forbidden to hurt you, kid. So if you try anything stupid, i've the permission to cause you pain AND slit your throat if necessary.", she said warily, well aware of the soultakers abilities. „You're still mortal like a human. So don't try any bullshit."

Sam knew just all too well that his body was vulnerable like the one of a human being, so yeah. He probably had to be careful when he didn't want to use his powers before it was really necessary. And to be honest: Would he had been human during some of his demon-hunting-trips he would've been dead about a hundred hunts ago.

„You lead the way.", Sam stated, his features remained unimpressed by the demon's words.

They nodded and the two black-eyed men led him inside the building, followed by the two nuns. Five minutes later, Sam found himself in a gigantic hall in front of a dark-brown heavy wooden double-door. The two men pushed it open.

Sam walked inside, followed by the nuns and the man closed the doors again from the outside. His heartbeat increased in anticipation, as he caught sight of a man standing in front of a bookshelf. He wore black jeans and a shirt, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, in the other one he held a book.

They stood there for a while like they were, then the man turned around on his heels. Black eyes with slender strains of orange-read beamed towards him and his lips curled up into a smile. He waved the nuns away and they left, as he sat down on the edge of the big desk, just a couple of yards away from Sam.

„I knew you'd come.", he muttered and tossed the book on the table where it landed with a loud thump. „I knew you wouldn't be able to handle the fact that it was him instead of _you_ ..."

Sam's face remained unmoved, but his internals were twisting and rebelling inside him. Maybe he wouldn't even have to try to talk the knight into _it_ if he was lucky.

„I promissed him something – The hunter." The knight continued. „I promised him to let you go. - So why the hell did you have to come for me, huh? I can't keep my promises that way."

Sam followed every very move of the form he was so familiar with. He took the hosts face in, the freckles and long lashes. Dean's soft cushions … _He'd get him back_ – no matter how.

„I came to make you an offer.", Sam tilted his head to the side. He had to stay calm. Had to remind himself that the knight wasn't able to know about his plan.

The knight abused Dean's lips to return a broad cheeky grin. „I figured … - First you should know that I didn't come here because I wanted to. I have my orders.", he told him, his face went serious again. „I liked it downstairs, you know?", the knight asked with a longing expression on his face. Then he sighed and rubbed over his face. „Do you even know what hell is for? - Why you're able to rip demons out of their hosts?"

Sam eyed the knight curiously. Did he try to talk him into something? Did he wanted him to think that the demon was sympathethic or something? If so, it definitely wasn't the right way to get to him.

After the young man wouldn't answer, he did it for him: „Because demons are nothing less than souls. - Tortured souls. Souls of murderers, pedophiles, serial-killers and all the other really bad guys here – _upstairs_.", he explained calmly. „I loved to beat and torture the hell out of those bastards, kid. _I had a_ **job**. My destiny. - And now?" His look trailed off and his lips curled downwards in disgust. „Now I'm here with a bunch of these _bastards_ ALL OVER AGAIN, because they're able to escape from hell. BECAUSE _of me_. And now I'm supposed to lead them, make them do all the things they've done during their lifetime all over gain. Things that I was meant to punish them for … - And i'm honestly wondering … what's the point?" He sighed thoughtfully. „When did everything went wrong? I mean … Hell was supposed to hold these bastards on lock-down, where they can't hurt anyone anymore. To suffer for their crimes."

Sam frowned – definitely confused now. What were his intentions and reasons for telling him all of this?

„I thought that hell means integrity, _damn it_. When did that kind of changes even begin? - Those dark souls were never meant to escape and come back here … No one of the old ones would've allowed that."

Sam just stared at him blankly. That was not what he had awaited. He had thought they'd _fight_ , not talk.

The knight petted his own knees and stood up. „So … I was thinking – resently – that you could help me with my little problem here. First I thought I'll kill you and get you out of my way. But now? - Now i think that it's not necessary at all. - I help you and you're gonna help me."

A Deal of that kind was the last thing Sam had come here for. Actually he came for blood and vengeance.

„I know that your friends are out there and are waiting, huh?" The knight looked up at him, locked his gaze with hazel-green eyes. „How do you think they'll be able to get in here and get your beloved hunter outside? - With close to fifty demons inside the damn building?"

Sam knew he was right – at least somehow. So he gave him an unconcerned look, since he figured it'd count as weakness to even show a flash of emotion at all. - At least when it came to demons.

„See? - So I can't leave this vessel by myself. I'm stuck in here if i want or not. And even if I could leave this vessel I won't be able to return to hell just like that.", the knight continued while Sam listened attentively, while the demon watched the soultaker cautiously.

„So … you want to go back to hell … why would you like that? - I always thought demons prefer to torture humans?" Sam stayed where he was, eying his foe closely.

He chuckled and took a couple of steps towards Sam. „Because THIS isn't my world. - I like what I did. Being the dungeon-master of all these damned beings. Doing to them what they did to others. Taking care, that non of them was going to burst out. - _Damn it_. - I've had the lowest count of jailbreakers."

Sam definitely didn't believe what he heard. Though he couldn't sense any lie, nor spot one on the knight's face.

„You don't think I'm telling the truth?", he asked, his eyebrows furrowing. The knight nodded, his lips formed into a thin line. „Well, I can't blame you. You probably had enough experience with my kind. And sure as hell others aren't like me. - See … you gotta understand … we – the knights – we aren't that bad at all. Sure, the seven – SIX ..." he corrected himself. „.. we weren't meant to be evil and bad. We were meant to punish those who deserve it. - Sadly some of us forgot what their job is – like Abaddon. And ever since Lucifer's in the pit, she fought for this status. She just hadn't got a whole lot of cheers on her side." The knight took another step towards the young man in the middle of the room. „I'm not supposed to be up here." He looked around suggestively. „They just sent me here to have me out of their way and turn people into what I'm supposed to punish." He sighed again. „I would need to be downstairs. I need to be in hell to fight my fight. So I can be sure that not some crazy ass demon regains control over everything."

 _No_ , Sam wasn't convinced. Not even a little bit. Though, the knight – if he told the truth – had a point. „Why should I believe you?"

„Because I let you live. In the warehouse. - Not just because I promised Dean." He cleared his throat. „And I could've killed you one of the many times you were watching me from the shadows … or rather said: when you checked on Dean."

Sam looked to the ground, trying to weight his possibilities. Either believing the demon, or not. „Okay ..." He looked up and eyed the knight from tip to toe. „So … lets say I'd believe you. What's the deal?"

The knight's eyes brightened up – as far as the pitch-blackness was able to brighten. „The deal's you free me from this host and get your hunter back. - For that I'd need to do a tiny ritual that requires the blood of one of the people whose blood was used to summon me. When the ritual is done, you should be able to expel me - with this exorcism ..." The knight pointed at the book on the table behind him, „ … you'll expel me easily from the vessel and send me back to where I belong. And so you won't regret it to help me, I won't leave the hunter half-dead and probably as a drooling mess for the rest of his life. I'll fix him as good as I can before I leave him. The only thing're the others … I suppose I've to leave them to you and your gift."

Sam's eyes stayed on the knight, trying to figure out what to do. „Who says that it's not a trick? That you wanna switch the host and recruit even more demonic souls?" He swallowed around the lump in his throat. „I came to offer myself to you, so that you let the hunter go, you know?" Sam watched the knight curiously. Maybe it was a failure to give his plan away. But if the knight bit, he'd know if this was what the demon wanted and then he knew what to do.

The knight chuckled and rubbed over his face. „Sorry, kiddo. But I'm not interested in the body of yours. - Just another prison that keeps me locked in the human world. - So … it's up to you if you make the deal or not. - Just wanted to give you a chance. - Because one thing's sure, I don't wanna die. Neither do you. If you're not leaving me an option I'll have to do what's best for me." He came closer to the young man. Just about a yard was separating them anymore. „I'll find someone else who'll be able to get me out of this meatsuit. And you'll be dead … and Dean's gonna need diapers for the rest of his life. - So what's it gonna be?"

Sam frowned and a long silence followed.

„How much blood do we need?", he asked with determination in his eyes.

„A few drops should reach out.", the knight answered with a broad grin and sparkles in his eyes.

* * *

He walked over to the double door and shoved the dead bolt shut. Turning on his heels to watch Sam, as he cut his palm, a moment of sorrow flashed over the knight's face.

„Sometimes ...", he started quietly, „... I sense glimpses of Dean's memories and feelings."

Sam glanced up with something like _devotion_ in his look. „Yeah?" He let the blood drip into the brass bowl on the floor.

„Yeah ..." The knight strode towards him and squat down beside Sam. A sigh filled with sadness fell from the knight's lips, as he guided his hands slowly towards Sam's and took it in his. He ever so gently opened the young man's fist and eyed the cut.

Sam let out a shuddering breath as he felt gentle fingers uncurl his fingers. Even when it was the knight, the feeling of those hands hadn't changed. They still felt like the same and still … somehow they remained different. He caught the knight's gaze for a moment, before he cleared his throat.

„He loves you, Sam ..." The knight pulled a cloth from the back pocket of his jeans and started to wrap up the younger man's hand. „He might be weak at the moment. But he's yelling at me right now. - Rumbling. Your hunter thinks I'm going to hurt you. Use you. _Kill_ you.", he mumbled silently, while he tugged the ends of the cloth together.

„Are you going to?", Sam asked hesitantly and looked up again in the knight's gleaming eyes.

„No ...", he answered, „... I just wanna go home."

Sam nodded to himself. It wasn't like he trusted the demon. But then again … what other choices did he have? Probably the knight was right and Sam wasn't strong enough to get him out of Dean so easily. - And if he'd do it though … in what condition would the hunter be?

The knight was right, so maybe – just maybe – he was a little lucky this time. Maybe the knight was telling the truth after all.

„You ready?", he asked Sam cautiously and the younger man nodded. „Okay. - So … As soon as you finished reading the exorcism, you'll have to take _them_ out, you understand me?"

Sam nodded.

„They'll feel that something's going on. - They'll know something happened and then they'll come for you. They will know.", The knight said, cocking an eyebrow. „I'll try and take as many with me as possible on my way out."

Sam nodded again. „I understand."

With that the knight rose to his feet and cut his own palm, letting the hunter's blood drip into the bowl and threw a lighter in it.

What followed was something that felt like a gentle shift in the atmosphere and a soft shock wave and the knight went down on his knees, gasping and panting as if all streight had left him all of a sudden.

„The spell.", he croaked out, „Hurry up!"

Sam grasped the book from the desk and started to recite the latin verses as clear as possible. Every now and then he stole glimpses at the kneeling man, seeing his struggle until white smoke burst out of the host that was his hunter. He staggered back a few feet as the smoke swirled into the air and burst towards him, surrounding him.

Goosebumps grew all over the younger man's skin as a tickling feeling ran down his spine. For a moment he thought he had made a mistake, but then the smoke let go of him and found its way thru the thin gap under the wooden double-door.

Agonizing cries followed, while Sam hurried towards his hunter, who lay on the floor on his side. His eyes closed. Wouldn't there've been the slow rise and fall of Dean's chest, he would've thought the man was dead.

„Dean?", he asked hesitantly. „Open your eyes. - C'mon. I need to know that you're okay … _please_." Though he knew that he didn't have time to wait until he regained conciousness. Sometimes it lasted days until a locked away mind that had been prisoner for so long was able to find it's way back to the surface.

Sam cursed silently, as he noticed footfalls that steadily grew louder. He pulled out his phone and picked up the prepared message for Ellen to send it. He gazed at Dean's unconscious form and laid a hand on the hunter's neck to feel for his pulse. It was there. Stronger as he thought it would be. It just looked like Dean was fast asleep and a small smile ghosted over the younger man's lips.

„It's going to be okay.", he whispered, his eyes big and sparkling like they hadn't for months - a small glimpse at the Sam he had been before Dean was gone.

Sam ran his fingers thru the hunter's short hair, bathing in the feeling of the satisfaction of having freed him. „You're going to be okay." Tears stung in his eyes as he rose to his feet, his look glued to the man before him.

Sam filled in where they'd find the hunter and hit the send-button, before he ran for the door. He flipped the dead-bolt back and went into the corridor. Half a dozen black-eyes already coming his way. He had about two minutes and thirty seconds time to clean the building, before Ellen and Caleb would show up to get his hunter.

Within a split second his mind switched back into predator-mode and his eyes sank into a deep blackness as he brought his body into fighting-mode.

A moment later he closed his eyes to concentrate and then they fell. One host after another dropped to the floor. Some managed to leave their vessels before the lethal wave of devastation caught up with them.

Sam felt a wave of dizziness wash over him, sending black dots across his mind, tearing on him to take him down. But he stood his ground. For Dean's life. It would all have been for nothing if he faded now. And with that he broke into a run …

* * *

He was alone again. There was this darkness and though … it wasn't the same as it had before. He tried to remember, when he heard a familiar voice. So soft and comforting. A voice he thought he wouldn't hear ever again. And though there it was.

He strained to reach the surface like a drowning man, though he felt weakness claiming his mind. But Dean Winchester fought and clawed his way towards the light above him. He had to. Sam was waiting for him there, he knew it. _Sam had come for him._

The closer he got to the surface where the light was, the clearer his surroundings started to get. He felt the hardness of the floor beneath him. The stuffy air around him. And the higher he got, the more obvious the fact was, that Sam wasn't there – at least not anymore.

The fact that he felt alone all of a sudden encouraged him to overcome the last barriers of his mind that separated him from the world out there. If Sam had been with him and had been able to get rid of the knight he'd need help.

That was when the hunter sucked in a wheezing gasp and his eyes snapped open. Clear ocean-green eyes stared ahead, blinking and trying to focus. Trying to regain control over his racing mind and his limps. But no such luck. His mind may followed his orders, but his body denied him any kind of obedience.

He was damned to listen to rambling, heavy footfalls, agonized cries and yells and then all of a sudden everything fell silent. The hunter strained his ears, while he was unable to move. His heart pounded against his ribcage violently as he tried to make something out.

And then there was a muffled thump from the other side of the door, like something slumped against it. Breath caught in his throat and a threatening panic caught him.

„ _Sam_.", he croaked out, carried on an exhale before darkness took him away again.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

** Fall Of Darkness **

** Chapter 33 ~ From Monsters And Hunters **

Ellen's phone erupted in her hands and she opened the text-message. „Two minutes, thirty seconds from now on.", she stated and shared a look with Caleb who sat behind the driver's seat of the ambulance and with Pastor Jim who lurked out of the small window into the driver's area from the back.

Two minutes and thirty seconds that felt like an eternity.

The hunters grabbed their weapons and tried to prepare themselves mentally for their task at hand.

Ellen stared at the watch on her wrist, the door handle from the ambulance in her other hand. Ready to burst it open. So were the others.

After exactly two minutes and twenty-eight seconds they left the ambulance, wich was parked around the corner of the convent, heading to the entrance on the back. Making their way inside and across barely alive or already dead hosts. They followed Sam's instructions to their destination, unbothered by demons since they all seemed to be gone. Though, Sam had taken care of most of the demons or even all of them in the building, they stayed high alert.

Finally they stood in front of a heavy double-door on the second floor of the holy building. A death-pale host slumped against the door, its eyes wide open in horror.

The three of them shared a look before they tugged it away and burst the door open with their feet, their weapons aimed. Glad that there was nothing visible to fight in the room, they went inside, their looks immediately landing on the crumbled form on the floor.

Ellen was with two long strides at the man's side and fell to her knees, feeling the human's neck for signs of life. With a relieved sigh, she nodded towards her friends. „Lets get him out of here, guys.", she said calmly.

Ellen laid her hand on the young hunter's shoulder and turned him onto his back. He was pale and his breaths shallow. Though he didn't look as bad as she thought he would. Most possessed people – at least those who were trapped inside their mind for so long – were barely breathing on their own and hypothermic after the demon left. Hell, they mostly had internal injuries and bleedings and were already too far gone.

But whatever Sam had done – Dean's breathing might seemed shallow but his pulse was strong, his body warm … just like he was asleep.

The both hunters carried him outside of the building, while Ellen covered them in case that there was still a demon left to kill. But there were none. Not even a single one …

When they had settled the hunter in the back of the ambulance on a stretcher, Ellen climbed behind the wheel, while the other two men got out of the car again. Caleb went towards the driver's side and looked thru the open window into a pair of pleading eyes.

„Call me when you found him.", she said and keyed the ignition. Her words were filled with hope and though with fear.

Caleb nodded and the both hunters watched the ambulance drive away, before they went back inside the building to examine it properly. They needed to find Sam. Needed to get him out of there and get him the help he needed, if he needed help.

So Caleb drew his phone and dialed Sam's number over and over again, while they made their way thru the first floor of the convent …

… one hour later and one floor higher, they were making their way thru one of the corridors of the convent, they had still no lead on Sam's whereabout. They had reached the end of the hall, when they suddenly heard a muffled ringing. The both hunters stopped in their tracks and shared a glance before they strained their ears to locate where the noise came from. The call went to mailbox and the ringing stopped. So Caleb tried it once again.

Both of them shared confused looks and looked towards the high colorful windows to their left.

* * *

He flooded thru the darkness and haze. There was no time, no body that held him. And he was alone. Something gnawed at the back of his mind. Something that wanted him to leave the darkness. Yet he couldn't tell what it was. But he was _close_. _Close to remember._

The first thing was that he was able to hear. A steady beeping noise and muffled voices. Then he started to feel the softness of fabric against his skin and something holding him. It took him long to realize what was holding him – what was holding his hand and rubbing circles into the back of his hand.

The second thing he got aware of was, that he felt warm and comfortable. Though it seemed like something wasn't quiet right. The fabric that covered his body didn't feel right and the hand that was holding his wasn't the one he had hoped for.

He had to wake up. Had to open his eyes and _see_.

* * *

„ _Sam_.", barely hearable, less than a whisper, the name fell from his lips.

The hunter's eyes fluttered open slowly and blurry surroundings appeared in front of him. His fingers twitched and he felt the hand – covering his – moving away. A face appeared above him. Long blonde hair and green-brown eyes hovered over him. Lips moving. Though her words didn't make sense at the moment.

„ _Sam_.", he repeated, this time stronger.

His mouth and throat felt dry and the beeping noise increased slightly.

The woman above him talked again and he felt a hand on his shoulder. Still … he knew he should know her, but wasn't quiet sure who she was.

* * *

„It's okay, hon.", the huntress tried to soothe him, watching the distressed man concerned. „Sam's going to be okay. So are you. - Just stay put. I'll get the doc."

„ _Sam_.", he said again, obviously not giving a crap about what Ellen tried to tell him.

She sighed and stayed still. The kid was lucky. Damn lucky to get away with nothing more than being out of it and a minor dehydration. It was nearly unbelievable after such a long time …

Dean guided his shaky hand up to his head and brushed over his eyes, squeezing them shut. Sure as hell he was tired and didn't want anything more than going back to sleep. But he wouldn't. Not until he knew that Sam was okay. Not until he had been able to see him.

Slowly his vision started to clear and the woman's words started to make sense. He smacked his dry lips and tongue and a moment later something cold and wet touched his lips – crushed ice. The hunter allowed to be feed a couple of ice chips with a spoon before his head sank back on the pillow with a low groan.

„Ellen?", he asked. His voice sounded somehow foreign to himself. Hoarse and raw like he had been screeming for hours.

„There you go, boy." She smiled and put the cup aside. „Nice to have you back."

A weak smile crossed the hunter's face. „Where's Sam?"

Ellen's forehead creased and she pressed her lips together. „He's save. - Don't you worry about him right now."

She earned one of the famous Winchester-glares for her words as soon as she had finished her sentence. „How long?"

„About twenty-one hours if you're asking since when you're in hospital. - Close to seven months if you wanna know how long you've been possessed.", she answered in honest.

The hunter sighed and closed his eyes for a brief second. „Take me to him ...", he muttered.

The huntress cocked both eyebrows. „He's going to be okay. - He wouldn't want you to leave too soon, kid."

„Take me to _Sam_.", he repeated and bolted up, regretting the harsh movement in an instant.

Ellen laid an arm around his shoulder and held him. „Dean. - You need rest and sleep. - There's no way you can leave this bed right now."

„Am I going to die if I do so?", he asked, a stern expression on his face.

She shook her head and sighed deeply. „No. - The doc said you're dehydrated and that you've a minor concussion probably. That the possession surely left its signs and that you'll be weak for a couple of weeks probably. Your heart rate's too slow, though your CTG didn't show any signs that your heart wouldn't work properly … You're not supposed to be on your feet right now – neither a three-hours drive would do you any favors, son."

„First.", Dean's hands held on the mattress for support, „If Sam'd be okay he'd be here." He shot the huntress a glare. „Second: _Watch me_. - I'll get the AMA papers all by myself and I'll be damned if I'm not able to find a car to hot-wire on the damn parking lot out there. - Damn it. I'm gonna wheel all the way to Bobby's in a wheelchair, if you're not taking me!" He was panting, a thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead. „So … are we going to do it the easy way? Or the hard one?"

„Wait.", she said, her gaze dropped to the white covers of the bed. „I should tell you something before we get your papers and prescriptions, hon ...", Ellen continued hesitantly, „It's … it's about Sam ..."

Dean's eyes widened in horror. „ _No_.", he breathed.

She didn't look up for a long time, nor continued to speak.

„What is it, Ellen?" The worst scenarios played along in his mind. Probably Sam had tried to rip the knight out of him … and … **NO** , there was no way he'd be that stupid.

„We don't know how he got the knight out of you, but he did. - And then … We don't know what happened after that. - It looked like he got into a hand-to-hand fight … Sam probably tried to clean the convent out. - Making it safe for us to get in and out again without any effort ..." The huntress' forehead creased into a deep frown. „Caleb and Jim found him over an hour later after we got you out … so ..." Ellen blinked and looked up into terrified emerald-green circles. „There's nothing you can do for him right now, Dean. - It wouldn't make sense to lose the both of you ..."

Dean growled – he growled like an animal. Then his eyes darkened. „What's supposed to mean losing the both of us?" His eyes grew wilder and darker with concern and desperation. „Weren't you with him?"

The huntress shook her head in embarrassment. A sudden emotion of guilt rose up her throat. „He didn't want us to … He … he changed, Dean. - He went in there alone and we thought it's better – for whatever he had planned – not to follow him inside before he gave us the sign." Ellen tore his gaze away from the even further paling hunter and looked to the ground. „Jim said he thinks that Sam used his abilities big-style. - That was why he didn't want us in there … because he would've killed us too ..."

Dean swallowed hard, tears stinging in his eyes. „How's Sam? Where's he?" His voice small and desperate. „Ellen?"

„He's at the Salvage … with Bobby, Caleb and Amelia. - And … I don't know how Sam is … they didn't call yet. I just know what I already told ya'." She reached for Dean's hand and took it in hers, squeezing it gently. „I just know, that he's in bad shape …"

The hunter looked aside and closed his eyes for a moment. Thinking of what Sam would've been ready to give to save him from the knight and being held as a prisoner in his own body and mind. He high likely would've done _everything_ … would give _everything_ – and that was something Dean was scared of.

„I'll get you the damn papers. - Now go and lay back down before I change my mind.", she grumbled and tore Dean away from his thoughts.

* * *

Two hours into the drive, she stopped at a gas station and picked up Gatorade, protein bars and O _h_ _Henry's_.

Dean had made himself comfortable on the backseat of the woman's pick-up-truck, covered with a blanket since he was cold, even when they had 59°F. Ellen had said that it were the side-effects of the possession that he'd probably feel for a longer time.

She glanced into the rearview mirror when she got back behind the steering wheel and tossed a bottle with blue liquid into the backseat and two protein bars, obviously not caring that she hit the hunter's lap HARD with it.

„Hey!", he yelped and grabbed for the Gatorade.

„You wanna play tough? Then be tough and don't whine.", She glared at him now with his mother-look and cocked an eyebrow. „Drink and eat. - No matter in what shape Sam might be when we arrive at Bobby's. - I'm damn sure he doesn't need you there, just to pass out on us ..."

Dean just nodded and followed the woman's instructions. Because he knew she was right. If he'd pass out he wasn't able to see Sam. Wasn't able to feel him close again. Wasn't able to help him with whatever he needed help for.

Besides: Dean knew – how bad Sam's shape might was - he'd pull thru. He had always pulled thru and he wouldn't stop now. Not when he'd know that Dean was with him. Not when he'd try to talk to him, showing him that he'd wait for him.

So he pulled himself up and inched back, until his back was flush with the door of the back-seat. He tried to shove his bad thoughts aside – just for once. Dean had to stay focused, had to stay alert (as much as possible) and had to have faith into Sam.

* * *

Caleb stood on the other side of the room in the corner and watched Amelia doing her thing on the injured man. Sam had only woken once, and that just to ask for _Dean_. And when he told him, that Dean was alright and already in the hospital he wanted him to be in, Sam had just smiled. _Just smiled._ And drifted off into unconsciousness again. And Caleb asked himself how this could be fair.

Sam was probably going to die. Attached to the CTG monitor and a clip on his index-finger that showed the saturation of oxygen in the young man's blood. He remained as he was when they had found him. Hanging with a rope – that was twisted around Sam's ankle – head down from a window of the third floor. His clothes were soaked in the blood of others and his own. And when they have gotten him down, they thought he was already dead.

But Sam had been lucky. Wouldn't have it been for the rope, Sam would've hit the ground - unprotected. Falling three floors, head down from a building onto the concrete was definitely lethal.

The stab-wound in his side was high likely the smallest of his problems at the moment – at least Amelia had said so. Expelling that many demons in one go had drained the younger man out. Had cost him the last of his reserves. Reserves his body would've needed to heal. So Amelia had admitted that it was pretty much of touch and go for god who knew how long.

* * *

After about another hour of complaining about Ellen's slow style of driving her pick-up down the highway, they finally pulled down the road about a mile away from Sioux Falls. Ten other minutes they finally reached the Salvage.

Ellen hadn't even gotten the car to a hold, when the door on the backside flew open and Dean staggered out of the vehicle, catching himself before he toppled over. The hunter was on the porch as fast as his legs were able to carry him. Without hesitation he slammed the front door open and his look darted towards the stairs.

He ignored Bobby, who had pointed a loaded shotgun in his direction at first. He oversaw Pastor Jim, who stopped in his tracks int he kitchen's doorway and a completely shocked Caleb, who was making his way down the stairs, as he passed him quickly.

When Dean finally reached his destination he was panting, his legs wobbly and a thin layer of cool sweat covered his skin from tip to toe. He laid his hand on the handle of the door that led him streight into the room that was meant to be his and Sam's. And bad memories made their way back into his mind, as he remembered the last time he had been in a similar situation.

When they had gotten away from the cabin in the woods. - When Sam had nearly died in his arms after he had been such a jackass. And now he was here – _again_. The circumstances were different ones, but though … after such a long time … going to see the love of his life again … in god knew what state he was in …

Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat and held back the tears that were building up in his eyes. Whatever Sam had done … it had been bad enough that they needed Amelia. He closed his eyes and the muffled sounds of beeps made their way thru the door.

„Sammy.", he whispered with closed eyes and pushed the handle down. The door sealed open and he blinked into the room.

A choked sob left his throat as he took in the room – _their room_. Everything looked like it was supposed to be. Except the two monitors beside their bed. „ _Sammy_.", he whispered again and his knees threatened to give out under him.

From where he stood he was able to see a dark bruise on the younger man's forehead and temple and a couple of small cuts on his face and right forearm. It looked like he got thrown thru a window. Or he had jumped thru a window. Sam's right leg was propped up slightly and his hands rested above the covers on his belly.

Another sob made its way up the hunter's body as he took a step into the room. And then – he didn't even remember how – the next moment he was standing beside the bed. Watching the labored rise and fall of Sam's chest and the way-too-slow beeping of the machine beside him.

Just then he realized the lean woman with curled dark hair and big darkened eyes looking at him. A sad smile formed on her lips and she leaned forward.

He looked at her questioning, but she remained silent for another while. Just the beeping of the screen broke the silence. She stood up and walked to Sam's side, gazing at the screen above her head. Then she reached out and pushed one of the buttons and with that the machine fell silent.

Then Dean watched her, as she removed the pads from Sam's chest and the clip from his finger and she pulled the covers up until his shoulders were hidden beneath them.

The hunter stood there, just staring at Amelia and then at Sam. What did that mean? Was she giving up on him? Didn't she want to save him? What if his vitals fell further? What if they needed to perform CPR on him?

„You should lay down for a while, Dean.", she said softly and nodded towards his half of the bed. „He fought for you so hard … I think he deserves to be close to you again, don't you?"

Dean tried to ignore the message hidden beneath her words and what they might meant. He then nodded and climbed onto the bed, slipping under the covers and inched closer toward the young man. He hesitated fro a moment, afraid this was all just a dream, before he dared to inch closer, until their bodies touched slightly. It has been so long … and now? Now he wasn't even able to talk with him, tell him how much he missed him and how afraid he had been that he'd die before he was able to be with him again.

„We'll talk later, when you wake up. - Just come downstairs when you're up for it. Then I'll explain everything to you ….", she said as she walked towards the open door.

„Thanks.", he muttered and gazed over his shoulder, catching the woman's gaze for a short moment. „For everything."

She just nodded and left the room, leaving the door wide open.

The hunter wore a soft smile on his lips as he finally laid an arm over Sam's middle and rested his head on the pillow beside him. He placed a feather light kiss on the younger man's exposed shoulder and closed his eyes. Ghosting his fingers over a bandage on Sam's side and a light frown built on the hunter's forehead as he felt the dampness of it.

Sam wouldn't die. He just couldn't. _Not now._ _Not now_ where they were free and were able to go wherever they wanted to without demons on their ass. _Not now_ when Sam would be able to go into the yard without being afraid. And then again … Dean wasn't even sure if Sam had been afraid of the world out there ever since he was gone.

The younger man's body was well trained and sure as hell he had put up some pounds. He was all muscles and flesh and seemed so strong now. Completely different from the man he had seen six months ago - for the last time. And it wasn't just Sam's body that had changed. There was something radiating from him, that felt different. Though he was still Sam. And god who knew what he had been thru. What he had done to be able to fight the knight and those bitches.

No it wasn't fair. Dean Winchester knew that life wasn't fair … _but holy hell_ … how would he be supposed to go on when Sam wouldn't be there anymore?

Tears built up in his eyes again and ran down the hunter's cheek as he tightened his hold around Sam's middle gently. „Don't leave me alone, Sunshine.", he begged silently, „You've to pull thru this. - _Please_ … You can't leave me here – not like this ..."

He closed his eyes and his hand shifted over the younger man's heart. „There are so many things out there I wanna show you, _Sam_. So many things _you_ haven't seen yet. _I_ haven't seen yet. Things I wanna check out with you by my side. Only you ..." He whispered silent promises and desperate pleas until his body and soul were too weak to carry on and he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Golden sunbeams flooded the room and dove it into a warm light of the early morning.

Dean had slept thru since yesterday evening without even realizing Amelia and Ellen checking on the both of them during the night. He hadn't even noticed them when they had put Sam on an I.V. and the fresh sheets that were covering the both of them now.

The hunter was awake for some time and still stared at the motionless face beside his. Sam hadn't moved. Though his hair and sheets were dump with sweat as if he had run a marathon. His cheeks were lightly flushed and as far as Dean was able to tell, the younger man was running a fever.

And this all for what? Saving him? When saving him meant that Sam would die, he wished he never had tried.

„I'll go and get a shower and pick up something to eat. - I'm back in about twenty minutes, Sammy.", he whispered and placed a gentle kiss on the man's cheek before he left the bed.

Glad that everything had stayed as it has been, he got some of his clothes from the closet opposite of the bed. Everything in there looked untouched. As if Sam hadn't been here at all. And maybe he wasn't. Maybe Sam had left the yard after everything had happened.

A bitter expression formed on the hunter's face as he glanced at the man on the bed. He tore his gaze away from him and made his way outside towards the bathroom, when he caught up a discussion from downstairs. All too familiar voices. And he stopped in his tracks to listen to them.

„We need to tell him.", Dean heard Bobby say. „He deserves to know."

„Who is gonna tell him that Sam won't make it, huh? What are we supposed to say? I'm sorry kiddo, but he's going to die. It's just a matter of time before his organs fail? Is that what you wanna tell him? NOW? Right fucking NOW? - He just got back, Bobby." Ellen's voice was calm and though desperate.

„Shshsh ..." Amelia's vice rang out. „Could we discuss this a little bit more **SILENT**?"

„Then what'd you say? You're the doc, Amelia.", Caleb frowned.

„I'd say I'll talk to him. - I'm gonna tell him how things are with Sam at the moment." Amelia answered. „He's exhausted. He got hurt. - He'd belong into a hospital and not here. Nor to another vet. What bothers me is that his pupils aren't responding to light stimuli. It's a sign for a cerebral bleeding or whatever … and I can't check it here, damn it. - And I'm not sure if he would survive a travel to my office to do it there." She sighed deeply and Dean could clearly hear the sorrow in her words. „And even if he'd do … Who would do the surgery? Anyone of you guys know a vet who'd do it? Anyone of you knows a doc who'd be willing to save a monster's live?"

A long silence filled the empty air. Dean's chin rested on his chest, tears in his eyes and he ran a hand thru his short hair, trying to adapt what Amelia had just said. But he couldn't take it … couldn't believe it. It just had to be a bad dream. Sam couldn't go now, when they finally were supposed to be free and happy. TOGETHER.

Non the less he had to take the shower. Had to tear himself away from the darkest of thoughts in his mind. He had to be there for Sam. Had to stay strong. Even when his heart wanted to shatter and his body wanted to break down. Right there under the hot spray of water he decided not to give up on Sam. No matter what the others said, no matter how his prognosis was and how he'd be in the end.

When he broke who would be there for Sam when he'd wake up? Because he was going to wake up. He just needed time. - Dean was sure.

* * *

The hunter gazed into their bedroom for a long time, before he headed downstairs. His friends sat in the living room and it was silent. Too silent. He lurked into the room and recognized Bobby's seat. The young hunter frowned and smacked his lips to announce his presence to the others. When they looked up, he managed a small smile that never reached his eyes.

„Hey there.", he muttered and leaned against the threshold.

„Time you woke up, son." Bobby grinned and turned his wheelchair around to face him. „Hungry?", he asked.

Dean just nodded. The strained atmosphere was palpable.

Bobby nodded and guided his wheeled seat passed Dean and streight into the kitchen. When the hunter didn't follow instantly he stopped for a moment. „You forgot where the damn kitchen is, boy?"

At least the old man's behaviour hadn't changed. What Dean figured was kind of soothing at the moment. Everything that felt like before he was gone felt reassuring and calming.

„Wanna lead the way?", Dean asked with a grin and turned around to follow him.

He earned a gruff glare from the old man, but followed him anyway. When they reached the kitchen-counter, Dean leaned against it. He still felt fuzzy and a little bit groggy. His body still felt a bit like out of order and that it wasn't his, but he figured that it was okay that way. That this was normal after being possessed. So he shoved his discomfort aside like a Winchester.

„How're you doin', boy?" Bobby opened the fridge and didn't bother to look at Dean. Well knowing that he must feel like crap.

„Groggy … but other than that pretty well.", he answered thoughtfully. „It's a miracle, isn't it?" Yeah, Dean figured the old man could possibly know something about what Sam had done to save him and leave him in a nearly unharmed shape.

„Yeah.", Bobby answered bluntly and started to prepare a sandwich. The former hunter knew that Dean wouldn't need help to prepare some food. He just wanted him alone for a couple of minutes. „A miracle.", he muttered silently into his beard.

„What happened?", Dean asked after a while of silence and nodded towards the wheelchair as Bobby glanced at him.

The older hunter huffed and shook his head. „I wish i'd know. - When I woke up in the warehouse I didn't feel my legs. - And the docs in hospital meant i've a fractured vertebra and my spinal cord got damaged." He cut the sandwich in two halves. „You've any idea what happened in the convent?"

Dean frowned and eyed Bobby intensively. He figured the old man didn't know either what had happened. „A convent? Was that were you guys found me?"

Bobby nodded.

Dean shook his head and closed his eyes. „I don't remember anything. - The knight didn't let me see, nor hear anything. I lived in a memory the entire time. He gave me Sam and the cabin. - Sure I knew that it wasn't Sam. I knew it was the knight trying to keep me away from bugging him. But it felt so real … _so damn real_. And damn it Bobby – I wouldn't have been able to stay hard any longer. Even when it hurt to know that it wasn't real … It wasn't bad at all." The hunter looked up, a sad smile gathering on his lips. „He could've put me away in my mind and let me get stir crazy in there. - But he didn't."

Bobby cleared his throat and nodded, pushing the plate with the sandwich towards Dean. Then he handed him a bottle with coke and blinked.

„Don't feel bad about it. - You didn't betray him. You did what you had to, to not go insane. It helped you to pull thru and hold on. - Sam wouldn't have been able to handle it any other way. Trust me. He was obsessed with freeing you." Bobby sighed. „He changed a lot since you were gone. _For you_. To be able to fight and do what he had planned to …" The older hunter rolled back a little bit and locked his gaze with Dean's. „At the beginning he brought them here – into the barn. And then he took off. Just like that. Was gone for months. And then – a couple of days ago he showed up in the Roadhouse, said that it's time to get going. And now, here we are." He smiled sadly at Dean. „And NO, I don't know what he did to get you back, nor do we know how he managed to get the convent cleaned out. He didn't tell us before. Maybe he was afraid that something would go south if he would. - What we know is, that there probably was a ritual. We found a bowl and a book with spells and rituals and stuff."

„How was he even able to get all these demons out of the way, Bobby?", he asked in disbelieve. „I mean …"

„He trained.", Ellen stood int he doorway and eyed the both of them. „He trained to separate the demon from the human's soul, so that he wouldn't rip it out of its host too. - When he was still with us, he passed out a couple of times afterwards. - But he got better. And when he thought he'd be able to manage it all by himself he left."

The hunters saw Dean's hands tremble, as he nodded. He looked at Ellen and eyed her with a sad expression. „I wish he wouldn't have done it. - Now he's paying the price. I didn't suffer where I was. Not really. I would've prefered to stay with fake-Sam somewhere in a fake-cabin than knowing that he's going to go somewhere I can't reach him anymore."

„Don't be stupid, boy." Ellen shook her head and a stern expression spread over her face. „Who said that he won't pull thru?"

Dean looked aside and shook his head as he grabbed the coke and the plate. „Because I heard you guys talk … And I'm not gonna give up on him. No matter what." He nodded towards the both of them. „I'm going to be upstairs. - Maybe Amelia could have a look on Sam later. I think he's starting to run a fever ..."

Dean waited until he got a nod from the both of them and went upstairs again …

* * *

 _Two days later …_ and nothing had changed. Sam was still running a fever and he still remained unconscious, while Dean was gaining his strength back. Besides taking showers and getting food, he didn't leave Sam's side. Not for a single minute. Either he sat in a chair next to Sam's side, or he lay on his half of the bed, curled around the younger man.

Amelia had given Sam twenty-four hours. Had told him, that there was nothing they could do, that he was dying. That he should be prepared.

And Dean had just sent her out of the room. Had told her to leave and not to come back in until she was able to announce some better news. For Dean it was a positive sign, that Sam was still fighting. For Amelia it seemed like drawing out the unpreventable.

* * *

_It was one of these nights …_

Dean laid beside Sam. He had just washed and dressed him, had changed the bandage on his side and had covered all his cuts with antiseptic ointment. He cradled the younger man in his arms and turned him to the side, so that Sam's back was flush with the hunter's chest. Dean wrapped an arm around the younger male's middle and buried his face into the crock of Sam's neck, inhaling deeply.

Dean tried to convince himself that Sam was just sleeping – at least it looked that way. He tried to convince himself that he'd wake up soon. He soothed himself into sleep every damn night since four days now, with this mantra in his mind.

This night he wasn't supposed to wait any longer … Not after all the prayers he had sent into heaven.

The hunter's eyes snapped open and his breath caught in his throat. With one punch he was high alert and in hunter's mode. Dean tightened his grip around the younger man's middle, listening to the short puffed breaths. He tried to focus on what had woken him, tried to recall if it was a movement in the room or a noise.

„D'n." It was so silent, so weak. Barely hearable.

Sam's fingers ghosted weakly over the hunter's hand on his belly and sent a ray of goosebumps over Dean's skin.

„ _Dean_." A second time. This time clearer and stronger.

„Sam?" Finally the hunter dared to breathe again. „Sammy?"

He turned the younger man around in his arms and gazed into Sam's hazel-green circles. The dim light of the lamb on the nightstand didn't let him have a good look at him, but it was enough to make out a small smile tugging on the younger man's lips.

„S'ved 'ou.", he breathed, as his eyelids started to get heavy again. Dazed hazel-eyes tried to focus on him but failed miserably.

Dean couldn't suppress the magnificent happy smile on his face, and bright big emerald-green eyes blazing with love and adoration – and relieve. „Yeah … you did.", he whispered and tugged a dump strain of hair out of Sam's face. „I'm so proud of you, Sunshine. - So proud."

He wanted to say so many things, wanted to ask so much, but now wasn't the time for it. Dean just needed to know that Sam was going to be alright.

Sam's lips curled up a little bit more, before the smile faded again and his features relaxed, as darkness pulled him under again.

* * *

It should take another five hours until Sam regained conciousness again. Though the fever didn't break. So it was, that he wasn't awake for more than a couple of minutes. Just long enough to share a couple of precious moments with the hunter, before he got Sam onto another I.V. and let him drift off to sleep again.

* * *

Sam felt so weak … so damn weak. And this headache was giving him hell right at the moment. He felt the hunter beside him, felt a strong arm around his waist and Dean's warm breaths against the sensitive skin of his neck. He just couldn't manage to open his eyes or move his hands to show him that he was still there. To proof to himself that he was still among the living.

His body and mind felt like they were flooding in water, and his limps felt heavy and unresponsive, ever since he had opened his eyes for the first time. But it was getting better. Sure his head felt fuzzy and everything seemed to be in a haze. But he was there. And Dean was there. Dean was talking and was obviously able to walk around. - So yeah, he had saved him. For once he had been lucky. And the knight hadn't been a lying ass-hole, as he had feared.

„Dean." Sam's lips moved, but his vocal cords wouldn't obey. „Dean.", he breathed. His eyes remained closed.

„I'm here, Sunshine.", Dean answered gently, and started to ghost with his index-finger around Sam's navel. „I'm here. - I'm waiting for you." The hunter lips ghosted over the younger man's neck. „Just take your time. - There's no hurry."

„'elp.", was carried on a strained exhale. „'lease, he'p."

The hunter frowned and spread his palm over Sam's belly. „You in pain?"

„No.", was the silent response. „See. - wanna _see_."

Dean continued to track his finger around his navel ever so gentle. „What do you wanna see?"

„You." It wasn't more than a whisper.

There was no direct answer. Just a slow shuddering exhale.

„It's already dark outside. I've no lights on in here. - But hey ..." He took Sam's hand in his and guided it to his cheek. „... you can _feel_ me." He moved slightly, so that Sam was able to feel Dean's stubbles against his open palm.

If Sam would've been strong enough to make a sound, it would've been a happy one.

„Good.", he managed to say after a while.

Dean pressed his hand tighter against his cheek and yaw, feeling Sam's fingers shift and a comfortable warmth spread under his skin. „You see. You'll get better soon."

It didn't last long, before the younger man's fingers and arm fell completely limp and his breathing evened out again as if he was asleep. A satisfied smile ghosted over Dean's face, as he guided the younger man's hand back down and tangled his fingers in his.

„Love you, Sunshine.", the hunter whispered, before he fell asleep himself.

* * *

_one week later …_

Sam sat probed up on half a dozen pillows against the headboard of the bed. He had laid his head back and his eyes were closed. The fever was finally gone and the wound on his side didn't hurt that much anymore either. He still felt weak and exhausted as hell. But he didn't care. He had Dean back, that was all that counted. And as a bonus, he had a Dean in a fractionating body. There was nothing more important than this at the moment. And another bonus was that he was still alive of course. He hadn't thought he would.

Amelia sat beside him and asked him some questions just a doctor would ask. Besides: His head was still killing him at times – just like now.

„Hurts.", he answered and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. „Bright light, loud noises …"

She nodded. „I can give you something for the headache of course. - I just don't want you to jump around, or stay up for too long for at least another week. Let Dean do all the work. I don't even want you to bow down or lift anything that's heavier than a spoon. You understand me?"

A faint smile ghosted over the younger man's lips. „Thanks … for everything, Amelia ..."

She grinned. Her eyes flashed white for a moment. „Everything for a companion, Sam. - You know, that you made yourself a name, don't you? - A monster walking streight into one of a hunter's sanctuary and then taking out a demon? - That's one hell of a story, kid. - I gotta say you did great.",, she admitted. „You're going to become a legend. - They finally have a face for the demon-hunter they heard so much about."

Sam just smiled and nodded slightly. „Stupid, huh?" His eyes fluttered open but they stayed on half-mast. „No one would go into a bar full of hunters when he's not quiet human ..."

She shook her head. „Time to show the world that not all monsters are evil and deserve to die. - Trust me, I know … maybe some of them will change their minds about us." Amelia smiled and sighed.

A knock was heard and their looks wandered towards the door. There stood Dean, with a wicked smile on his lips and happy emerald-green circles beamed at the man in the bed. In his hands he held a tray with a plate and a big bowl. „How's our favorite patient doin' doc?"

„Definitely better.", she answered and pushed one of her dark bangs behind her ear. „He shouldn't walk around a lot yet. No bowing down and lifting stuff that's heavier than a spoon. - For at least another week."

Dean nodded.

„And when he's up for travelling I want to check him thru in my office. - making a CT-scan and all the things we couldn't do earlier.", she continued and Dean nodded again. „I want to have a look at his head … see what had happened."

The hunter went to the bed and put the tray on the nightstand. „We'll do." He smiled at her. „You're gonna take off again?"

The woman chuckled and blushed slightly. Then she shook her head. „Not today. - In a couple of days, when I'm sure that Sam's improving further."

The hunter saw a flash of concern crossing the woman's face. „I just want to make sure that he's over it."

Dean nodded again and sat down on the edge of the bed. Eying his love closely. Sam was still pale and the dark circles under his eyes wouldn't go away. A definite sign, that he was still sick and just covering his pain mostly. - At least when Dean was around.

Because when he was taking a shower or went downstairs for food, he had not just once heard Sam wince or grunt when he tried to shift into a more comfortable position, as he came back.

Amelia gave the hunter a nod and left with a comforting pat on the young man's thigh.

„So … you're up for some yoghurt with fruits?", the hunter asked and grabbed the bowl and a spoon from the tray.

Sam frowned. He wasn't hungry, nor did he have a lot of an appetite. But he knew that he had to eat and drink to get back his strength. „Sure."

The hunter nodded satisfied and placed the bowl in the younger man's lap. Then he scooted back to the headboard and leaned against it with a plate in his hands. Sam ate slow, with shaky hands. It was unbelievable how exhausting something normal like eating could be.

It was when Dean had finished his burger, that Sam laid the spoon into the bowl, wich was still half full, and sighed. A thin layer of sweat covered Sam's forehead and his hazel-green circles were covered in a haze of pain.

„C'mon, Sunshine ..." Dean took the bowl from Sam's lap and smiled. „ … I'll help ya a little."

Sam leaned his head back and took a deep inhale. „Nah. - I'm good. Just tired ..."

The hunter huffed and shook his head. „You'll sleep when you're done with the bowl, Sam. - And don't argue. There's no point in pissing me off, what's definitely going to happen if you're not doing as i say."

Sam blinked his eyes open and swallowed visibly, then nodded. „Fine, sir."

„Fine." Dean lifted the spoon to Sam's lips and he opened up, swallowing the cool mush. „Good. - That's my boy."

A slight smile ghosted over the younger man's lips, and he got ready for another spoon full of yoghurt. Though they didn't manage to empty it, since Sam started to drift off now after each spoon and Dean decided that it was enough for the moment.

Sam leaned back completely exhausted. A shiver ran down his spine, as the cool fabric met the back of his neck.

The hunter turned round and put the bowl aside. Then he started to rummage around in the drawer until he found the bottle of pills. He popped two out and reached for the bottle with Gatorade.

„C'mon, Sam. - Open up.", he said softly, „These are gonna help you with your head."

Sam eyes opened half way with a wince and he obeyed.

Dean laid the pills on Sam's tongue and placed the bottle to his lips, letting him drink.

„Now c'mon." The hunter helped Sam to scoop down and threw some of the pillows towards the end of the bed. Immediately the young man rolled to his side and curled up in the hunter's arms. Dean then inched closer and cupped the back of Sam's head protectively, placing a gentle kiss on the younger man's mop of hair.

Sam made a comfortable sound, while moving an arm around Dean's waist … and soon he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_Days went by slowly._

Sam was sleeping most of the time, while the hunter watched over him. Helped him in every way possible and Sam allowed him to do so. Somehow it was like in the past. Before all that stuff had happened with the knight. The young man was barely talking about those months while Dean was gone and the hunter didn't remember anything at all of his time with the knight. At least he didn't remember reality. He sure remembered the scenario the knight had made up for him.

It lasted about another two weeks until Sam's headache had subsided and he was close to normal again. - Except these blackouts he had from time to time, where he just sat there and stared at something that seemed to be far away. Sam's face was empty during these episodes and his eyes had a weird expression as if he was seeing something, but couldn't remember afterwards.

Surely they visited Amelia in her office, who ran all the tests that she had mentioned. And since the two of them weren't blessed with so much of good luck, she didn't have just good news for them. There had obviously been an cerebral bleeding. Not much, but enough. Sam had been lucky that it hadn't been that big of an injury, she said. Though there was the possibility, that this injury was the offspring of these episodes.

Then again, she told them, that she couldn't be sure about it.

At least it wasn't like Sam seemed to be in pain or stress during those, what counted as a giant plus for Dean. The rest they would be able to handle all by themselves.

* * *

Two days later, and a nearly heartbreaking good-bye from Amelia, they were back at the Salvage, gathering their stuff and packing up. As much as Sam seemed to want to stay at Bobby's, Dean had still his appartement on the other side of the town. Their own little place for just the two of them. And that was probably why Dean wanted to go back there. Because it would be just them. - For the first time in over eight months, they'd be completely by themselves. - And free to go wherever they wanted to.

Sure, Sam had said he wanted to hunt on Dean's side. Dean ont he other hand wasn't sure what to think about that. He had still his blackouts without forewarning, wich could mean their both deaths during a hunt. Though Amelia had said, that these episodes would fade, would get lesser. That Sam's brain would just need time to cope with the injury.

And Dean Winchester prayed that she was right.

* * *

 _There they were …_ Dean, Sam, Bobby, Ellen and Caleb on the porch, saying good-bye for the upcoming two weeks. It wasn't like they were out of reach. Hell, Dean's appartement was right on the other side of the town, just about fifteen minutes away. And though – after all they've been thru – it seemed hard to split up again. At least Bobby seemed quite sad about seeing the boys leave.

Ellen pulled Sam into a gentle hug and kissed his cheek softly. „So, we'll see each other on friday?", she asked when she released him again and tilted her head to the side.

Sam shared a questioning look with Dean and then nodded.

„And don't be late, Idjits." Bobby cocked an eyebrow and grinned. „I won't warm up ya' food just because the two of you weren't able to get out of bed."

„You sure you can handle old grumpy all by ya' own?", Dean asked with a cocky grin and nodded towards the old man int he wheelchair, who glared at him in respond.

Ellen chuckled and patted the youngest hunter's shoulders. „Sure I will. - And you take care of Sam." She watched Sam's back as he strolled towards the sleek-black Impala.

Dean followed her gaze and took in the tall man, in biker-boots, jeans and the black leather-jacket. And yeah – Sam had changed. Not just from his appearance. Also in relations to the way he moved and looked at others. Sure, when he and Dean were alone, Sam seemed the same like always. - It was just then when they weren't alone, that Sam seemed to switch in some kind of predator-mode.

„You know me, Ellen.", Dean blinked and smiled. „Won't let him out of my eyes."

* * *

The appartement was a mess. Dust everywhere. Even the pizza-boxes remained on the counter in the kitchen – untouched. Just like they had left it months ago. When no one of the both of them knew that they'd end up as a pair – as partners.

Dean tossed his duffel on the couch and a cloud of dust erupted with the impact on the upholstery. The hunter sighed and glanced over his shoulder to Sam, who left his duffel right next to the door.

„Guess we've some cleaning up to do, huh?" Dean walked to the fridge and pulled two beers out.

„Sam glanced at him with a wicked grin on his lips. „You think so?"

* * *

It was their first night in Dean's appartement. Their first night, where they ordered chinese food together and watched a movie without anyone else around them. Their first night where it was just the two of them after such a long time.

* * *

Sam frowned and tensed slightly in Dean's arm, when he looked over his shoulder and the backrest of the couch, towards the appartement-door. And then, with one single blow Sam's face went blank and this all too familiar expression rose in his eyes, as his pupils shrank to the size of pin-heads.

The hunter followed Sam's gaze towards the door, but couldn't make out anything of the unusual. Then he realized that it was one of Sam's episodes and the hunter's heart sank.

„Sammy.", he called softly.

There was no reaction.

„C'mon, Sunshine. - Snap out of it." Dean turned towards him and cradled the younger man's head in his hands. „Look at me, Sam." The hunter brushed with his thumbs over Sam's cheeks. „C'mon, sweetheart. - Look at me.", he whispered.

A whole minute later, Sam finally snapped out of it, focusing back on Dean, as his pupils started to react to the dim light of the room again.

„I'm sorry ...", he muttered and cleared his throat. „I don't know what's wrong with me … It was just … like there was something …"

Dean gave him a warm smile and leaned forward, covering his lips with Sam's, catching his lower lips between his teeth softly.

„It's been a long day. - Guess we should get to bed, huh?" The hunter whispered and placed another kiss over Sam's tender cushions.

The younger man's lips curled up into a smile, and pulled Dean into another lingering kiss.

**The End**

* * *

sooooo … that's been it ^^ - maybe (when you're done with reading) you guys wanna leave me some _BACON_ (aka reviews) for this story, huh? You know … reviews keep me going ^^

* * *

**SPECIAL THANKS TO:**

**3DBABE1999 for helping me out with the plot as i got stuck**

**SOULfulSAM for pointing multiple (unpleasant and awkward) mistakes out**


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